


Twisted Lullabye

by Denstort



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 38
Words: 42,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denstort/pseuds/Denstort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew is in therapy and taking the medication like he should....but it's not the end of the rainbow yet...hell it's not even a rainbow yet.....storm clouds are brewing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 5 of "Muted Symphony' Series

_He supposed he could have picked a better time to run away..then again, when was a good time to run away; not in the middle of winter it seemed. The coat he was was wearing had long since soaked through and he had no money to buy food or drink, let alone a new coat. He was cold and hungry, so when the man stopped his car and offered him a lift, his trouble radar wasn’t switched on._

_“You need a lift kid?”_

_He knew he shouldn’t, but the rain wasn’t stopping and it was getting dark, and the heat from the car felt so inviting._

_“So, going anywhere particular?” the man asked._

_He shook his head._

_“Well, I’m heading for Manchester.”_

_They drove in silence for a while, then the man said._

_“You’re a runaway, aren’t you?”_

_He didn’t like the way the man said it, even more so when the man pulled into a lay-by._

_“So, no-one knows where you are?”_

_Twenty minutes later he was sitting on the grass besides the lay-by, trying to wrap his torn coat around himself. At least the rain would wash away the blood and it would hide his tears._

**********************************

Morgan watched Matthew as he watched the recording of their last session. A lot had been revealed under hypnosis; much of which Morgan wasn’t shocked by. What could be more shocking than the revelation about physical torture and rape at the hands of a group of unknown paedophiles. The harder task and it still was, was getting Matthew to accept that it wasn’t his fault.

He heard Matthew’s breath hitch when his own image described how the ‘good Samaritan’ had raped him. A sleeve was wiped across eyes and a shuddering breath was taken.

“Matthew, you shouldn’t hold back the tears, or your emotions. It must have been traumatic, the rape, and then to be dumped like a piece of rubbish.”

Matthew reached for the remote and switched the recording off; he’d given Matthew that choice and power.

“I wasn’t thinking, I knew the rules about strangers.”

“Matthew, you were cold, wet and in emotional conflict, how could you think clearly. You were vulnerable and he took advantage of that.”

Matthew looked at him, there were definitely tears in his eyes now.

“Thing is, I was thinking of turning back, y’know. N-not going h-home, but to D-Dominic’s.”

“Then he stopped and you didn’t come home, why?”

Matthew looked down and fiddled with the hem of his jumper.

“How could I?”

“Did you feel ashamed?” Matthew nodded, without raising his head.

“There was no need to feel ashamed, what happened wasn’t your fault.”

Matthew did look up then and Morgan saw a flash of something in his eyes. “Wasn’t it....wasn’t walking along a busy road in the near dark asking to be knocked over by a passing lorry? I wish I had been hit be a lorry and left to die on the side of the road. I’d rather that than the shit I did go through.”

“You would rather die,that’s understandable. Victims of rape do feel like death would be better, but in the end they realise it isn’t.”

That earned him a derisory snort.

“ Right...did these victims go through what I went through afterwards? No, I bet they had a nice police officer to hold their hand and tell them that everything would be all right. I bet they had someone who would love them and chase the nightmares away. Did they have to steal to eat or go down on some bloke who didn’t give a fuck if you were choking on his scummy dick!?”

Matthew was standing by now, and Morgan could see that he was getting riled up.

“Sit down, Matthew.”

“Like fuck I will.”

Matthew headed for the door.

“Matthew, this session isn’t finished, sit down.”

“Yes it fucking is,” Matthew replied and Morgan winced as the door was slammed.

He turned the video camera off and wrote something in his notes....Matthew had finally shown some emotion, even if it had been anger; it was something and after three months of this he would take it as progress.

************************

Dominic thought he would make use of the membership of the sports club that Chris had arranged for him It was a top flight club, where Chris and his rugby team mates did their training. It had a indoor running track and he felt the need to burn of some frustration.

He recognised Chris’ Mustang; at least he would have someone to buddy up with if he needed it. He walked onto the track, expecting to see Chris and some of his friends, having not seen them in the gym, but he was nowhere to be seen, so what was his car doing here?

There was a few people using the track. But it was one person in particular that held his attention...Matthew and he was running hard. He stopped and watched him running. Matthew wasn’t built for sprinting, but his lithe frame was perfect for long-distance, and he looked good.

He shook himself....what are you doing? He was pretty certain that he wasn’t supposed to be driving Chris’ car. He looked at his watch, surely he should be deep in a session with Morgan, it was Tuesday.

Matthew had been released from the Institute a couple of months ago, since he’d been taken his medication regularly, and he sessions with Morgan were a work in progress, and he was no longer deemed a danger to himself. But he was still surprised to see him here, since he was still painfully wary of strangers.

Matthew must have spotted him as he started to slow down, and eventually stopped short of where he was standing and began warming down.....fine, then he would go to him. He strolled over and reached him just as he was starting some stretches.

“Hey, do you want me to spot you?” he said.

Matthew looked up, he looked unhappy, but at what he wasn’t sure .

“If you like.”

So he knelt down and placed his hands on Matthew’s ankles.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a therapy session.?”

Matthew stopped his sit up, “Obviously I’m not.”

Yep, he was definitely unhappy with something.

“I take it things didn’t go well?”

Matthew pulled his ankles out of his grip.

“Enough with the questions!” he snapped.

 

Dominic held up his hands, and changed the subject. “You do know that Chris is going to hand you your arse for taking his car.”

“I left him a note,” Matthew said, shrugging his shoulders.

Dominic shook his head, he wasn't sure he liked the Matthew that had emerged in the last three months. This Matthew seemed hardened, any soft edges had gone.

“I’m calling Chris and saving your arse...Chris, yeah, he and the car are at the sports club. Okay, I’ll leave the keys at reception and drive him home.” He put his phone away and returned his attention to Matthew; who looked dis-interested.

“You’re not insured to drive that car.”

Another shrug of shoulders.

“Give me the keys, Chris is coming to pick the car up.”

That earned him a ‘don’t think so’ look.

“Matthew, the keys.”

He sighed when there was no answer, and he hated to do it, but he had to get the keys.

“Matthew, you know the rules.”

Blue eyes were narrowed and Dominic knew that the mind behind them was deciding whether he would carry out the threat.

Matthew let an audible sigh, “Fine,” he said and reached inside his running vest, and took the keys from round his neck and threw them at him. “

Thank you, I’ll drive you home.”

“No thanks, I’ll walk.”

“Matthew, it’s ten miles and it’s bloody cold out.”

“Whatever,” Matthew said and stood, and started walking towards the locker room.

Dominic wasn’t having that attitude, nor did he want him out of his sight. He could never shake the fear that something or someone from Matthew’s past would reach out a ghostly hand and snatch him away. 

“Don’t think so,” he said and followed.

**********************

Matthew was ignoring him, until he was walking towards the showers. He turned and glared at him.

“You going to follow me into the showers. For fuck’s sake, I’ll let you drive me home.”

Dominic saw fire in Matthew’s eyes, it was the same fire he’d seen in Berlin. But it was only fleeting, as moments later those blue eyes once again became icicles.

“Going to take a shower now,” Matthew said, and those were the last words spoken, and on the drive back, the car felt colder inside than it did outside.

He didn’t stay, not wanting to be in the middle of what was going to be an argument between Matthew and Chris.

He was just settling down in bed, when there was a loud banging...what the, who the hell was banging on the door at this time of night?

He cautiously went downstairs, he could clearly see a shadow lit up by the security light. He moved closer and said in what he hoped was fear free voice.

“Bugger off or I’ll call the police.”

The reply he got made him blink; it was a giggle, a very familiar giggle. He quickly opened the door.

“Matthew...what....”

“Dommy!” Matthew interrupted, his voice slurred, and he had to use the wall for support.

He must be under the influence of something, but what he didn’t know. He grabbed hold of him and pulled him inside and tried to steady his head and look into his eyes. He could smell alcohol, but Matthew’s pupils were blown; he was drunk and high...fuck, he knew better than that, what with taking prescription meds.

“Matthew?”

Matthew looked at him with unfocused eyes.

“Matthew...what did you take?”

Matthew grinned then frowned, obviously trying to think.

“Jus’ some tweak, wanna feel good.”

Tweak...tweak? Bloody hell, he’d taken Meth.

“Dommy, don’t feel so good...gonna puke.”

Dominic went into automatic and dragged Matthew to the downstairs bathroom, just in time as he brought up whatever booze was left in his stomach. He grabbed a towel, wet it and wiped away the sweat and vomit, by which time Matthew had passed out. He quickly stripped him of his clothes, which were covered in god knows what. He let out a gasp when he saw what looked like a love bite on one shoulder and hand shaped bruises on slim hips. He couldn’t think about that now, so he found an old tee and some boxers and managed to get him into his bed.

He’d just pulled the covers over when his phone rang; it was Chris.

“He’s here, what happened?”

“We had a huge fight over the car. He stormed out, that was hours ago. Is he okay?”

"He’s drunk and as high as fuck on Meth.” He didn’t mentioned that he might have had sex with someone.

Chris swore, “I’ll come and fetch him.”

“No, leave it till the morning, he’s out of it.”

“All right, but I’ll let mum and dad know. Dom?”

“This isn’t good, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.”

He rang off and finally got redressed and settled on the free side of his bed.

He ran a hand through Matthew’s hair.

“What did you do?” he said.


	2. Chapter 2

“Well, fuck you too!” he yelled, just before he slammed the door. He ran out of the gates and along the road. He caught the tube to Soho; at least here no-one would care who or what he was. He ignored the calls of the street girls, women weren’t his thing. He moved further into Soho until he got to the area he wanted, but again he ignored the calls of the street boys. He wasn’t in the mood for sex, he just wanted to get drunk and quite possibly high.

Yes, he knew that ‘crunking’ getting high and drunk was dangerous, but at this moment, he really didn’t give a fuck. He brought his alcohol, the shop worker not even questioning his age and then went in search of a fix.

He jumped when he heard someone call him by his nickname.

“Mattie!”

He turned and standing across the street was a face he thought he’d never see again. The person crossed the road and said.

“Bloody hell, Mattie, I thought you were a gonna when the coppers raided us.”

“Yeah, well I’m not.”

He was surprised to see Jamie and it was obvious he was still working when they arrived at the small bed-sit.

“Didn’t you go home?” he asked as he took a drag on the spliff before handing it back.

“I did, but my dad and I quote didn’t want ‘a fucking dirty dick-sucker in his house’,” Jamie replied.

“Fuck him then, bastard,” he said back.

“You still working, I heard Donnie ended up as a crispy critter.”

“Yeah, he did and no I’m not working.”

“Oh, why?”

“Not important.”

“So, you don’t party anymore?”

“Oh, I’ll never stop partying.”

**************

“Oh, Jesus fuck…don’t stop…oh fuck…yeah.”

Everything was tinted with the haze of alcohol and the contents of the ‘baggie’ he’d brought. He hadn’t partied since his days in Manchester, and he could have easily earnt a few hundred quid, if the amount of men that had tried to get his attention were anything to go by.

Whoever he’d ended up with, it felt fucking fantastic. He let out a yelp and then a moan of pleasure when whoever he was with bit his shoulder. The meth coursing through his blood made him twice as horny and sensitive, and the alcohol anchored him to a sense of reality.

“Christ…harder…fuck!”

After that he didn’t remember much, until he woke up, sober, sore and in a very familiar bed.

*****************

Dominic had finally gotten some sleep, and when he woke up, Matthew was still out of it. He was in the kitchen when he heard movement upstairs, Matthew must be awake. He abandoned his breakfast and Matthew was almost down the stairs, pulling on what looked like one of his long sleeved t-shirts, and he was already wearing a pair of his skinny jeans.

“Matthew, where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“Matthew.”

“You think I’m staying here, after what happened between us?”

Dominic frowned, “What…wait, you think we?”

“Why else did I wake up in your bed?”

“Matthew, we…”

“What, we never fucked? I may have been pissed and high, but I didn’t hallucinate being fucked. Then I wake up in your bed… the jury can retire.”

“Mathew, we never did that...let me.”

“Don’t wanna hear it, and I think you should shut it, or Chris and his very big rugby mates might just hear about how I turned up here, all vulnerable like and you took advantage of me.”

He didn’t know if Matthew thought he was going to be cowed by that threat; but he was wrong, it made him angry.

As Matthew tried to get past him, he grabbed his arm, his anger spoiling over.  
“Listen, you little…. you turned up drunk and high. Whoever fucked you last night, it wasn’t me!”

He tightened his grip further and dragged Matthew down the rest of the stairs and pushed him against the hallway wall. He used his weight to keep him still and he growled.

“If I’d fucked you last night, you’d remember it.”

The eyes that had been ice chips moments earlier, suddenly flashed with something else.

“Think a lot of yourself then,” Matthew said.

The phone ringing diffused the tinder dry moment, but Dominic didn’t let go of Matthew; he’d learnt that lesson and kept his grip tight as he answered it.

“Yeah, he’s awake. Definitely come over and bring Tom. You still have a key…. yeah, there’s a problem.”

As he put the phone down he could feel Matthew trying to get out of his grip.

“Stop it!” he snapped and pulled him into the kitchen. He pulled out a chair with his free hand and said.

“Sit.”

Matthew didn’t of course, so he tightened his grip again, ignoring Matthew when he swore at the increased pressure.

“Sit,” he said again, and this time Matthew did.

He released Matthew’s arm, relieved to be away from feeling the heat from Matthew’s skin.

“Listen, we did not have sex last night, but you did have sex with someone, while you were drunk and high. No doubt you have no idea whether you used protection. Why did you do something so bloody dangerous?”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders.

“Did you do it because you were angry at Chris?”

“Don’t try and analyse me!” Matthew snapped back.

The front door being opened and Chris calling his name ended what was a non-conversation.

“In the kitchen,” he called.

Chris and Tom walked in and Dominic could see and feel Matthew tense, and he couldn’t be sure if it was the presence of Chris or Tom, or both of them. Before Chris could speak, he said.

“We need to talk.”

“Oh, okay.”

Dominic turned to Tom, “Make sure he doesn’t move from that seat.”  
**********************

Tom nodded and after Dominic and Chris had left, he leant against the work surface. He hadn’t had any contact with Matthew since the incident in the Institute, so he wasn’t sure if the look that was being aimed at him was from Matthew or Hassan.

When the words ‘murdering bastard’ were muttered in Arabic, he guessed Hassan.

“If you’re going to insult me, at least have the balls to say it loud enough for me to hear.”

“I said murdering bastard.”

That wasn’t Hassan, that was definitely Matthew; there was no Middle Eastern inflection in his voice.

“Nice choice of words.”

“They fit, you are responsible for the death of someone I love.”

Ah…there it is, Aziz Bishara.

“I didn’t pull the trigger.”

“Maybe not, but you held a gun to my head. It gave Aziz no choice.”

“And he had one to Dominic’s.”

“You could have let us go.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I came to rescue you.”

Matthew shook his head and Tom tensed when Mathew’s whole demeanour changed.

“That’s a lie, you came because of your wife. Yes, Aziz told me what happened…you came for revenge. You are no different to me, I made a mistake not stealing a knife from the kitchen before I attacked you.”

“Killing me won’t make it better.”

“Why not, Aziz is dead, you got your vengeance. But you and those that ordered Aziz’s death are not. When do I get my vengeance?”

“You’re not a killer, Matthew?”

“Aren’t I? How do you know what I am?”

“That’s just your illness talking.”

“Oh, you think Hassan is not me. Hassan is just a name, what he is, is what I was long before Aziz.”

“Again, that’s not you Matthew.”

“If you say so.”

Matthew was silent after that and never even looked at him, but Tom had the feeling that he should watch his back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matthew is so not getting better.........

“He had sex with some random bloke as well?” Chris said. “Was he that pissed at me?”

“Don’t think he’s just pissed at you,” Dominic replied.

“He could have died or the bastard he was with could have killed him.”

Chris hesitated for a second before speaking again, and Dominic could hear the fear in his voice.

“You don’t think he’s going to run again, or worse? What if he’s suicidal?”

Dominic placed a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “He’s not suicidal, he’s angry at me, you, the ones that abused him…the whole world in general. But, I think he’s angrier at himself.”

“Do you think he should go back into the Institute?”

Dominic shook his head, “No, he might feel caged and that could make him self-destructive. I think we should watch him more carefully. Do you think Tom can arrange that? I’ll talk to Morgan and Kelly, see what they say.”

Chris let out a sigh, “Will he ever get better?”

“I can’t tell you that. Matthew was emotionally and psychologically damaged long before he became part of your family. Sometimes some wounds cut so deep, they never fully heal. All we can do is patch them up when the bleed.”

“It’s not fair, he’s the one that’s damaged and the ones that damaged him are out there, still doing whatever they did to him. I know this sounds wrong, but I sometimes think we did the wrong thing, rescuing him from Aziz Bishara.”

Dominic was surprised to hear that from Chris. “No Chris, we did the right thing, despite what Matthew thinks he felt for Aziz. He was corrupting him, you know he was. Look what happened in that warehouse. Do you think that would have happened if his mind wasn’t already being infected by Bishara’s poison? What if we’d never tried, what would he be by now. Bishara was a murderer, would you want Matthew to have become like him?”

Chris’s eyes widened, “No, never that. I just mean he seemed happy, even if it was deluded.”

“I know, but in the end we did the right thing. We can only hope that Matthew will eventually see that too.”

Chris nodded, but he didn’t look happy, “I’ll take him home now.”

**********************

Chris hesitated at the kitchen door, how was he going to handle this? He’d never thought when he’d seen that small-framed boy looking at everything but him and his family in the small room at the children’s home, that it would turn out like this.

They had been told he was a ‘troubled and difficult child’, and they had been right. Within two days of being in his new home, he had almost succeeded in running away. Then there had been the stealing and the fights…and good god, the attitude. Yes, he was troubled child, but then one day it stopped.

He often wondered what had happened to that belligerent but very frightened ten-year-old that had ignored him, what happened to the silent yet seemingly happy older teen. How had it been replaced by a surly twenty-one-year-old, that glared at him when he walked into the kitchen.

He immediately noticed the tension between Tom and Matthew, so he diffused it by saying.

“Tom, can you call my parents and tell them that Matthew is okay. Then can you draw up a roster of your team, Matthew is going to be under a tight rein.”

He saw Matthew’s eyes widen at that.

“Give us a few minutes, then we’ll go,” Chris said.

As soon as Tom left, Matthew spoke. “So, am I under your version of house arrest?”

“After what you did, can you blame us?”

“What, had a little fun?”

Chris had to rein in his temper at the casual attitude Matthew was displaying. “Fun, you call getting drunk and high, then having sex with some random bloke fun?”

“I was just partying.”

“Partying? What kind of party was it? Please tell me you weren’t doing it for money?”

“And what if I did, what business is it of yours?”

“Mattie…” “Don’t call me that!” Matthew spat. “Don’t ever call me that again!”

Chris took a steadying breath, remembering Dominic’s words. “Okay, but doing what you did, you can’t do it again, no matter how pissed off you are.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Matthew snarled.

Chris couldn’t stop his sharp reply, “I can and I am, and don’t think I won’t drag you home if I have to.”

Matthew suddenly stood, his chair going over. “I’d like to see you try. I’ve had to fight off men bigger than you.”

“Matthew.”

“Not listening, it’s not like you’re my parents.”

That stung and it riled him, but the second the next words left his lips, he regretted it. “And what would they think?”

For a moment he saw the hurt in Matthew’s eyes, before they hardened again.

“I wouldn’t know, since they’re dead.”

Matthew’s voice was devoid of any emotion and Chris felt a twinge of guilt, again.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Matthew just looked at him, then said, “Are we going then?”

Chris was wrong-footed by that; he was certain that Matthew would refuse to go. He was distracted by Tom and Dominic entering.

“You ready to go?” Tom said.

Chris nodded, then said to Dominic,” Sorry about this, but thanks for looking after him.”

“No need to apologise, at least he still had the wherewithal to come to me. Let me know how it goes.”

********************************

Why did they insist on thinking it was insanity? Oh, he knew something was right, after all hearing voices in your head wasn’t normal, was it? But did that make him mentally ill, how could it when the voices made so much sense?

Then a voice he thought had been silenced by the pills that he had to take while they watched him said.

_“Well, they would say that, it isn’t normal to hear voices. You enjoyed what we did last night…insanity’s fun, right?”_


	4. Chapter 4

Dominic hadn’t heard from the Wolstenholme’s or seen Matthew since he’d turned up at his door. He hadn’t expected them to, Matthew was a twenty-four-seven problem. In a way he was glad as that heated exchange on the stairs had almost re-ignited the embers of what had happened back in Berlin. But he knew something wasn’t right when he opened the door to Christopher one evening.

“He’s gone,” was all that Christopher said.

Dominic handed him a mug of tea, “He’s been gone for how long?”

“Two weeks.”

“You could have come to me.”

“No, you’ve had enough trouble because of us...him.”

“It doesn’t matter. Matthew may not care about me anymore, but I care about him. How did he manage to get away?”

“Morgan decided he should go to group therapy. Let’s just say, their security wasn’t as scrupulous a Morgan’s. You know how good he is at reading people, he picked on the one most likely to kick-off. By the time his two minders had helped to calm the chaos, he’d gone. They searched for hours, but it was too late, he was long gone. We had to call the police, because he won’t be taking his medication.”

Dominic shuddered internally, the world that Matthew had probably re-entered was not kind to people who suffered from psychiatric problems or were vulnerable in some way. It would devour Matthew if the wrong people came across him.

“We’re still looking for him, and the police have alerted the Manchester police, just in case he goes back there. He can’t stay hidden forever, can he Dom?”

**************************

_He knew he should go straight back, but he had the time. He’d delivered the package and the payment was securely secreted on his body. Not that anyone would try and take it; only the suicidal or the incredibly stupid would try, everyone knew who he was and who he belonged to. Aziz had started entrusting him with the more important delivery and payment runs._

_He sat at an outside table at one of the coffee shops, and just watched the people go by. He watched shoppers and workers scurrying by, all completely unaware of anything but getting from A to B. If he was still working the streets and ‘dipping’ he would have had a field day. But he didn’t do that anymore, Aziz said it was beneath him to be ‘common thief.’_

_He looked at the very expensive watch he wore; it was time to go. Aziz would want the payment and the mood Aziz had been in this morning, he would probably want him. He opened the door to the house, it was quiet, so Aziz must still be out. He placed the payment on the table and went to his bedroom and got ready for Aziz’s return._

_Some hours later he stretched himself out on the bed, working the kinks out of his spine after a more strenuous and definitely exhausting sexual workout. He watched as Aziz emptied the contents of the package onto the bed……precious gemstones._

_“Beautiful, are they not,” Aziz said._

_He reached out to touch them, but hesitated; he hadn’t been given permission to touch._

_Aziz must have seen his hesitation and picked up two sapphires and placed them in his hand._

_“These are for you, my beautiful Hassan. They pale into insignificant in comparison to your eyes.”_

_He dropped the stones and the look his gave Aziz was filled with desire to match the searing heat he felt building in his blood._

Matthew woke with a start, when someone shook him hard. “

You okay?” Jamie said

“Yeah…just a dream.”

“Didn’t sound like ‘just a dream’. Sounded like a really good dream, and you were speaking in some foreign language.”

“It was just a weird dream, okay,” he almost snapped.

“Okay…you doing anything today?”

“Might work Selfridges…lots of fat wallets and purses and no security who think they’re bloody DCI Gene Hunt.”

“Nick some of their chocolate…love their chocolate.”

“Sure, you working tonight?”

“Yeah, you certain you don’t wanna come with. You could make a shit load with your looks.”

“Nah, got plans, going to find myself a place.”

“Don’t have to. S’nice having you around, you’re not going home then?”

“No…never.”

*************************

Matthew let a small smile form on his lips; this was way too easy. He’d already lifted several wallets, pocketing the cash and stashing the cards to be sold later. He was about to leave the store before the security did become suspicious that he’d been there a while and not purchased anything, then he heard Arabic being spoken, and he couldn’t resist the temptation of one last fat pay-out.

He followed the voices and found they belonged to a group of well-dressed people. He moved closer, until he was within striking distance, but a large hand clamped onto his wrist and pulled him away, and the very large owner of the hand started berating him in Arabic.

This attracted the attention of the group who turned and one of the party spoke. “What is going on?” he demanded.

The large bodyguard hauled Matthew around, “This thief was trying to ro….”

The man was cut off when the man suddenly said, “Let him go.”

“Sir?”

The man approached Matthew and he jumped when the man suddenly pulled him into an embrace. “It is you...Allah be praised, we thought you were dead. Where have you been, Hassan?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone is back from then dead and a deadly partnership is once again struck.

Mathew found himself wrapped up in the arms of a dead man, soft words being spoken in a dead man’s voice. His mind couldn’t make sense of what his eyes were seeing and his ears were hearing, so it reacted in the only way it could, it shut down and his body followed.

When he woke again, he once again saw what he thought was a dead man…this wasn’t fair, why was his own mind torturing him? He tried to deny what he was seeing and hearing, and when the delusion had touched him, he once again passed out, but when he returned to the world, he didn’t panic when he saw the person looking at him.

The man spoke gently to him and had called him ‘my love’. He was pretty certain that delusion didn’t call you ‘my love’ and pressed a kiss to your hand. He was real…he wasn’t dead, it was Aziz. He was too tired to comprehend it and when Aziz told him to sleep, he did.

When he woke again, he knew exactly who he was and where he was. He was home……and he was Hassan and not Matthew, and he loved Aziz.

 

***********************

Aziz tightened his hold on the miracle that had just passed out in his arms. He winced as the sudden movement pulled on his recently healed gunshot wound. The last thing he’d seen before he passed out was the distraught face of Hassan, smeared with his blood. The next face he saw, was the face of the surgeon that had saved his life.

It had taken him six months to heal and recover, and in that time he had learnt plenty. The government agencies had gone as far as placing him inside a body bag, and one of his men that had survived told him that Hassan’s screams could be heard outside as he was dragged away from him, and how they had watched as his body was taken from the bag and left and Hassan had been taken away, and for the distress it would have caused Hassan alone, he would seek his revenge. He then learnt that his business was being fought over by many others, the resulting turf war had been bloody. But what angered him most was not that his business had not passed onto Hassan, if was the fact that Hassan had vanished.

He waged a bloody and violent war to regain his business, and many bodies were left for the police to deal with. But no matter how many men he ‘questioned’ he could not find out what had happened to Hassan. In the end he had resigned himself to the fact that Hassan had been spirited away by some government agency; he did not want to think that Hassan maybe lying in some unknown grave or a nameless victim on some mortuary slab.

He busied himself with expanding his business, whilst plotting his revenge on the ones that had torn him away from his life, and Hassan. Oh, he had no doubt that they knew he was alive, but they obviously thought he was of no consequence anymore, as he had hidden his connection to the bloody turf war well, and had moved onto other prey. That suited him fine, the viper usually struck when its prey wasn’t looking.

But he still kept looking for Hassan; it was why he was in London, hoping that Hassan had been returned to the people who called themselves his family. But once again it was a false hope, and it saddened his heart. When he had purchased Hassan or Matthew as he had been called then, he had no idea that he was going to become more than just a bed warmer. Hassan had become so much more than that; he had become the person he trusted more than anyone…the person he had fallen in love with.

Love…that was something he thought he would never experience, but a spirited, untamed sapphire-eyed boy had changed that.

Now that same boy was resting in the bed they had shared so many times, being examined by his doctor.

“This looks very recent. It looks like a bite mark.”

Aziz felt his anger rising, who had once again marked Hassan; yet another scar to avenge.

“He looks a little underweight. I would like to take a blood sample, to test for any deficiencies…with your permission?”

Aziz nodded and watched as blood was drawn, the doctor’s action causing Hassan to stir. The doctor finished quickly and moved back.

“I will be just outside sir, if I am needed.”

Aziz watched as Hassan frowned, then his eyelid’s fluttered, then his eyes opened. He looked confused, but only for a moment before they widened and he sat up; cerulean jewels became fixed on him.

“Hassan,” he said softly, then jumped when Hassan shot out of the bed and into the nearest empty corner.

“Hassan?”

“No, no…not real…not real.”

“Hassan?” he said again, what was wrong with him?

He moved closer, but stopped when Hassan tried to push himself further into the wall, hands pulling at his hair.

“Not real, not real.”

Aziz moved again, closing the gap between himself and the figure crouched in the corner. He stopped as Hassan became more distressed, and he looked terrified.

“Hassan,” he said and took hold of the hands that were pulling on hair.

“Hassan, stop.”

But Hassan became frantic and once again passed out. He gathered Hassan into his arms and laid him back on the bed. He stroked Hassan’s cheek, the soft skin sparking so many memories.

“What has happened to you, my beautiful Hassan.”

He nearly jumped again when Hassan’s eyes opened. He tensed, expecting Hassan to react again, to see fear in those eyes. But there wasn’t…did he see recognition.

“Aziz?”

His name was said in voice that sounded full of hope and trepidation.

“Habibtaaa,” he answered.

A tentative hand was extended and touched his face…oh, that felt good.

“It is you,” Hassan said, but it still sounded like there was disbelief in his voice. “But you died.”

He took the hand that had touched his face and kissed it.

“Enough, for now, you should rest, we will talk later…sleep.”

It was another twelve hours before he spoke with Hassan. He’d learnt from the doctor that his blood tests showed that he had traces of anti-psychotics in his system. Had he been forced to take the medication, did those that said they were family think he was ill? Did they think that Hassan’s love for him was part of some deranged fantasy?

Is that why Hassan thought he wasn’t real, had they convinced him that he was just a creation of an illness?

He put those thoughts to the back of his mind as he opened the bedroom door. Hassan was not in the bed, and for a moment he panicked. Then he heard movement in the en-suite, so he sat on the bed and waited, and a few moments later Hassan appeared, wearing nothing but a towel…just as he had the night before it all went to hell.

“Aziz,” Hassan said.

Aziz blinked, he recognised the tone in Hassan’s voice, he recognised the body language as Hassan walked towards him, without hesitancy, removing the towel as he went…one thought went through Aziz’s mind as Hassan prowled across the bed and began undoing his shirt…. his Hassan was back.

“You have missed me, my little desert lion.”

“Be careful, this desert lion has claws,” Hassan growled.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hassan is back...but is there a glimmer of hope for Dominic....?

_Hassan sat in the interrogation room, it had only been eight hours since Aziz had been murdered and he was still in shock. He shifted in the chair and shuddered as he felt the roughness of dried blood; the blood that had poured out of the man he loved. He had refused to change into the clothes they they had left for him, and he had that no doubt they would eventually tire of it and make the decision for him, and his clothes would be gone._

_He hadn’t eaten the food they had brought, he had no appetite, and he had given them nothing but glacial stare when someone had stood with their back to him as he relieved himself. He refused to speak to anyone; did they really think he would? Oh, they asked…what did he know about Aziz’s business? Did he know the names of his associates and the people that Aziz had corrupted or blackmailed into working for him?_

_By the end of the week, he had to eat or they said they would force feed him, but still he said nothing, and he refused to co-operate. As he had thought, they did relieve him of the bloody clothes, but not without a struggle. After another week, they changed tactics and they showed him pictures of Aziz’s burial and told him that if he didn’t co-operate, he would be joining Aziz._

_After seeing those pictures, his grief overwhelmed him, and he refused to even leave the small cot he had been given. He lay curled up, and the only time he spoke was to sob Aziz’s name._

 

He blinked awake, with tears stinging his eyes.

“Aziz,” he sobbed.

He jumped when he felt strong arms tighten around him, and a soft voice say.

“I am here.”

He turned in those arms and said, “You’re real.”

A soft laugh and a thumb gently wiping away a tear was the reply. “I should hope so, or what we did earlier was a very vivid and pleasant shared hallucination.”

“They told me you were dead.”

“And I nearly was, the man who saved me is a very skilled surgeon.”

“T-they showed be pictures of your burial. S-said I would join you, i-if I didn’t talk.”

“Cowards and liars.”

“I n-never talked, w-would never talk.”

He was drawn closer, and sighed at the warmth of Aziz’s body.

“Such loyalty, and they treated you like a dog. I tried to find you, but you were nowhere.”

“I was in their custody, then they grew tired of my silence and I was released, but only into another kind of custody. I ran, but not far enough, he still found me. He gave me this,” he said and touched the scar on his right shoulder.

“Who did this?”

“Donnie James, the man who sold me to Alexi Dematrov. H-he…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, but Aziz did.

“He did not just beat you, he raped you?”

He nodded.

“I will kill him myself,” Aziz snarled.

“There’s no need, he’s dead, as is Dematrov.”

Aziz’s eyebrows raised, “Did you kill them, my little desert lion?”

“I had them killed.” He took Aziz’s silence as a need for an explanation, so he began to tell him. He didn’t stop, telling him everything that had happened since that night. He pushed himself away from Aziz when he felt the anger radiating off him.

“I will hunt the traitorous bastard down and kill him for his disloyalty.”

“No, we will hunt him down together and we will kill him together.”

Aziz reached out and ran his knuckles down one of his cheekbones.

“My little desert lion has finally unsheathed his claws.”

 

*************************

Dominic had tried to keep his mind off Matthew running again; he really had. But every time he went out with the other volunteers, he looked for Matthew, hoping to see his face amongst the young men and women, that the charity gave hot food and drink to.

It was only three times a week, but at least they knew that some of them were getting something warm in their bellies. Every time he saw a flash of dark hair and pale skin, he hoped it was Matthew, but it never was.

He didn’t even know if he was in London anymore…what if he had found himself in the clutches of another Donnie James or Alexi Demetrov? What if he was out there, suffering delusions and torments without medication…what if and god forbid, he was an unclaimed body in some morgue?

He didn’t want to think that any of those things were happening; he wanted to think that Matthew at least had somewhere warm to sleep.

His attention was drawn back to the present by someone tugging on his sleeve. He focused and found himself looking to a pair of brown eyes, that were attached to someone he hadn’t seen before.

“You called Dominic, yeah,” the man said…man, he was more like a kid.

“How do you know my name?”

“Don’t matter, but you are Dominic?”

He nodded.

“You’re blonder than he said.”

Dominic frowned. “Beg pardon?”

“Mattie, said you were more of a dirty blond.”

That brought everything into a crystal focus. He grabbed hold of the boy’s coat, not realising he was holding him way too tight.

“Oww, let the fuck go of me!”

“You know Matthew, where is he, is he alright?”

“None of you fucking business!” the boy spat.

Dominic didn’t ease up on his grip. “Where is he!?”

“I don’t know. He went lifting in Selfridges, I ain’t seen him since!”

Dominic let out a yelp as the boy kicked him hard in the shins and the pain and the shock of knowing that Matthew was still in London made him let go. The boy was off like the scared rabbit he probably was. In the precious seconds it took him to shake the shock and run after the boy, it was too late, and the boy was lost to the dark streets of London.

But it was a ray of hope, a tiny glimmer…Matthew was still in London; he could still be found.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something is so not right as Aziz is about to realise.

Dominic could only stare at the space that the teenager had occupied. Did he just say that Matthew had been ‘lifting’? His heart fell at the knowledge that Matthew had already fallen back into a criminal life. He had to find that kid again, find out where he lived or at least the place he called home.

Wait, the kid had said Matthew had gone lifting in Selfridges, but hadn’t come back. He looked at his watch, it wasn’t too late and he hoped what he was going to ask wasn’t breaking the law…. well, not too much.

“Tom, yeah, I’m fine. I need a favour...well, two favours.”

The next day he was sitting in his office with Tom.

“You didn’t give me much to work on, but I have contacts that can ask around. It helps that he had that hair colour, and a kid with a teardrop tattoo would stand out. As for the other thing, I did get a copy of the store security tape, but there’s nothing on it, he’s way too smart to be caught on camera.”

Tom stopped the footage and looked at Dominic, his look was so intense it made him uncomfortable.

“Pulled a few more strings and managed to get a copy of the footage from the CCTV outside the store, and, well…. see for yourself.”

Dominic watched as a black Mercedes pulled up outside the store. Nothing weird about that, often cars would pick up people outside the store. Then he saw what looked like a manager, okay, so a rich customer. Then it got way too real, as what looked every inch a bodyguard appeared and was carrying someone; that someone was Matthew.

He couldn’t see the face of the last person that got into the car, but all of them had been well-dressed and most of them looked Arabic. Dominic’s blood ran cold…were they Aziz Bishara’s former business ‘associates’? Had they found Matthew?

He repressed a shiver at that thought, and hoped it wasn’t true.

“I ran the plates on the vehicle, it’s registered to one of the legitimate companies that used to be owned by Aziz Bishara. They’ve found him, Dom.”

Dominic looked at the now frozen image and his heart lurched in fear. Fear at the thought that Matthew was in the hands of men who only cared about power and money. Fear that without his medication, his other personalities would have free rein, and he shivered at that, because he knew it would be ‘Hassan’ and he would have a field day.

*********************

He let out a frustrated breath before saying, “Why must I stay in the car, I can help you.”

“Because you are not well enough.”

“But I feel fine.”

“My doctor says otherwise. I only allowed you to accompany because it would take too much time to return for you later. You have an appointment with my stylist,” Aziz said.

“Why?” he asked, deliberately putting a whiney tone in his voice.

He heard Aziz sigh, “Because you have no clothes and I refuse to let you wear those rags you call clothes, and your hair.”

He glared at Aziz, “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Peace, my little desert lion. It just needs attention, even though I am not sure I like the colour.”

“Whatever,” he replied, feeling distinctly surly.

“Enough, Hassan. Your time away from me had dulled your manners. You will wait in the car.”

He didn’t reply this time, but steadfastly looked out of the opposite window. He heard the other door shut and he let out a huff of air. It wasn’t fair, he would have let me go with him before…he stopped and an unwelcome thought came into his head…does he no longer trust me?

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of raised voices, then startled by the sound of a gun being fired. He looked out of the window and his eyes widened in surprise as coming out of the building was a man, and he was heading straight for the car.

He jumped as the door was wrenched open and the man leaned in and dragged him out.

“Don’t move,” the man hissed and he felt cold steel against his throat. Both his and the man’s attention was then taken by the door being thrown open and Aziz followed by his driver and his two ‘bodyguards’ appeared.

“Back off, or a slice pretty boy open,” the man snarled.

Hassan felt the sharp edge of the blade press against his skin. He was aching to do something but he had to be patient. He looked Aziz straight in the eyes, hoping his look said ‘trust me.’

“Keys,” the man said and Aziz nodded and his driver threw the keys, which landed at his feet.

The man adjusted his grip and hissed aa he forced him downwards, “Pick them up.”

He did as he was told, easily playing the role of the cowed victim. He turned the keys in his hand until he got them how he wanted them. Then he did what he had been aching to do and used the keys as his own form of blade and drove them into the hand that was holding the blade.

The man let out a cry and in his shock at being attacked let go of and dropped his blade. He also lessened the hold he had, just enough for him to tear himself away. If the man or Aziz thought he was going to stumble away or run for protection, they were both wrong.

“Hassan!” he heard Aziz call, but it sounded faint to his ears, he let out a snarl that matched the anger he was feeling. He whipped round and snatched up the fallen blade. He threw his weight against the man and held him against the car.

The man looked at him with wide eyes, then they became fear filled as Hassan smiled, then turned the smile into a death’s head grin and drove the knife into the man’s shoulder. The man cried out again, then screamed as Hassan began twisting it.

“Not so much fun, is it?” he hissed, twisting the blade again.

“Hassan?”

He ignored the voice and twisted again, watching as blood covered the hilt and his hand.

“Hassan, stop.”

He looked round this time and Aziz was standing behind him, his hand outstretched.

“Come away, Hassan.”

“No-one hurts me,” he hissed.

He heard the faint sound of sirens, but he didn’t care, and turned his attention back to the man, who was no only standing because of his weight and the car for support.

“Hassan, come away!”

The order was barked and this time he obeyed and he stepped away, and the man sank to the floor.

“Get him in the car,” Aziz was saying, as the sirens grew closer.  
He let out another snarl and before he was pulled away, he kicked the fallen man. Then he was bundled into the car and they were moving. He really wasn’t paying attention, his body was still singing with adrenaline, nor did he really hear Aziz’s voice.

“Have him meet me at my house…tell him to bring some sedatives. There is something not right with Hassan.”


	8. Chapter 8

Hassan had enjoyed the buzz from the adrenaline when he had attacked the man. The high had been better than any chemical he could put into his body; he wanted to feel it again. Maybe Aziz would let him help with his ‘business’ again.

His mind was still slightly blown by the non-dead state of his lover, the man he would do anything for. He could hear the other voice telling him that Hassan was not his name, and he didn’t belong here.

He silenced it with a snarl, one that he didn’t realise he have voiced aloud.

“Hassan, remain calm.”

“I am calm,” he replied, but his body betrayed him.

“You are not calm, you are still agitated.”

“I am not.”

“Hassan, you have not sat still since we got in the car. My doctor will examine you when when return home.”

“What for?” he asked, suspicion rising.

“He did nick you with that blade.”

His hand went to his neck, “It’s nothing, I’ve had worse.”

“He will tend to it,” Aziz said, his tone of voice giving the statement a finality that Hassan knew not to disagree with. His suspicion grew, and he eventually realised he was right to be suspicious.

**********************

“Hold him still!” the doctor snapped. “I won’t risk the needle snapping inside his arm!”

Aziz tried to keep his grip on the struggling Hassan’s arm as light as possible, not wanting to bruise him.

“Hassan, be still.”

The curse words that Hassan was spitting out in Arabic and English should not grace this beautiful boy’s lips. With a tinge of regret, he tightened his grip. He hated the yelp that replaced the profanity. He locked eyes with Hassan’s as the doctor injected the sedative. He saw a clear message in those eyes…betrayal.

He only relaxed and let go once Hassan’s eyes slid shut, he stroked Hassan’s hair before stepping back.

“He should be out for a good eight hours,” the doctor said. “May I speak candidly?”

He nodded.

“I think we should re-instate the anti-psychotics that he had been taking.”

“What, why would I agree to that?”

“I am going by his behaviour here and the behaviour you described. You yourself said that he had not displayed any acts of sudden violence before.”

“Are you saying that Hassan is mentally unstable?”

“He would not have been prescribed those drugs without a reason. It is also my opinion that he suffering from some sort of mental health issue. But I am not an expert.”

“Yes, you are not an expert and it is only your opinion. I thank you for your assistance, I shall call you again if you are needed. Everyone, leave us.”

He waited until he couldn’t hear anybody near the door before returning to sit on the bed and once again stroke the hair of the now drug-induced sleeping Hassan.

“I will not have your spirit dulled by those chemical cripplers. If you truly are unwell, then I will look after you and protect you.”

**********************

Dominic looked up at the near derelict building.

“Seriously, this kid lives here,” he said and flinched when he heard what sounded like more than two people screaming at each other.

“Better than living on the street, I guess,” Tom said.

“You sure about that?” he said, as the screaming had been joined by the sound of things being broken.

“My sources say this is where the kid’s pimp used to put him up.”

“Used to?”

“They said he suddenly lost interest in the kid. I’m thinking Matthew, or whoever the hell he is at the moment, can be very persuasive. He was with Bishara for long enough to pick some unwanted talents. I think we should go up now.”

“Okay, but not too hard on him, yeah. Even if doesn’t know where Matthew is now, we can at least take him away from this shit-hole.”

Of course, it didn’t go smoothly; the kid was as slippery as Matthew. But Tom was ready for that and now had a strong hold on the kid.

“Lemme go, you bastard!” the kid spat, once again trying to wriggle out of Tom’s grip.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Dominic said.

“Like fuck you ain’t!”

“Tom, let go of him, I’ve got the door.”

Tom shrugged and let go of the kid, who instantly shot across to the other side of the small bedsit.

“Get the fuck out of my room!” he yelled.

Dominic put up a placating hand, “We just want to….”

He didn’t finish his sentence as the kid spat, “ You ain’t touching me again!”

It suddenly dawned on Dominic why the kid had fought so hard; he was horrified.

“No, no, we’re not here for that.”

The kid looked at him then his eyes narrowed, before widening again, “I know you, you’re that Howard bloke.”

The kid seemed to relax a little, which made himself and Tom relax.

“Mattie ain’t here anymore, if you’re looking for him. I’m looking for im’ too.”

“So, you really don’t know where he is?” Tom said.

The kid snorted, “Course’ not or I’d be there dragging his arse back here.”

Dominic moved forward, glad that the kid…hell, “What’s your name?”

“Wot’s it to you?”

“I can’t keep calling you kid, can I?

The kid cocked his head to one side, a move that reminded Dominic of the way Matthew had looked at him sometimes.

“Jamie.”

Dominic sighed, “Okay, Jamie,” he said and looked round the small bedsit. “You hungry, how about we go get something to eat?”

Jamie seemed to think on that, but Dominic was sure he was thinking about whether he should trust him, or Tom.

“Okay, can I have chips. Me and Mattie would always have chips on a Friday.”


	9. Chapter 9

_“That’s a pretty little thing you have over there. Where have you been hiding that one?”_

_Donnie looked over to where the man was pointing._

_“That’s Matthew, he’s my special little bird. Didn’t think he was your type or age.”_

_“I might consider adjusting my tastes. I find I’m needing someone more…robust.”_

_“He will be expensive.”_

_“Not a problem. Tell me, where did you find him?”_

_“He was one of my street rats, turns out thieving and sex weren’t his only talent. He’s very good at blackmail.”_

_“Is he available?”_

_*******************_

_He was sitting at the bar, not really paying attention to the crowd. He hoped there wouldn’t be a client tonight; he was too tired, and the last client had hurt him beyond what he had paid for. He looked over to where Donnie was and saw him talking to another man. He looked away when he saw the man staring at him. A shiver went through him, there was something about the man._

_He looked back again and saw Donnie giving him the signal that meant a ‘date’ had been arranged. He sighted and let his mind slip into work mode._

_“Matthew, would you care to entertain my guest whilst I attend to other business.”_

_He knew it wasn’t a request, but they were in a public place, so._

_“Of course, may I get you a drink?”_

_“Actually, this hotel does an excellent house red. We can order a bottle and share it in my room.”_

_Despite the unease he felt about the man, he had no choice. His unease was well-founded, as soon as they stepped inside his room and the door was closed, the man grabbed him and shoved him against the door._

********************

He was desperate to wake up from the nightmare he was drowning in, but it felt like heavy weights were stopping him from opening his eyes. He finally managed to drag his eyelids up, but he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. His brain felt muzzy, like he’s been drugged. Sudden clarity came with that thought.

A sob choked his throat…Aziz had drugged him.

There was only one reason why Aziz would do that. The truth settled like an arrow in his heart; Aziz was going to sell him. He felt hot tears start to form….no, he wouldn’t do that; he said he would never do that. But the doubt caused the arrow in his heart to twist…had it all been a deception, right form the start, a way to make him compliant. After all, a compliant slave was a more valuable salve.

“ _Told you, you can’t trust anyone_ ,” the voice that he hadn’t heard for a long time said, the same voice that had liked being called Hassan.

“ _I hate that name now,”_ it said. “ _We can think of another one, once we get out of here_.”

He hadn’t listened to the voice for a long time, but that had been the effects of his medication, but now he was listening; the voice after all, was always right. He shook his head to clear the rest of the muzziness and eventually found his clothes and shoes. He was soon out of the bedroom and carefully watching the activity downstairs.

A few minutes later he was standing on the opposite side of the street, looking at the house. He had once loved the house and the person that owned it…now he felt nothing for either.

 _“Let’s go_ ,” the voice said, and he obeyed.

**************************

Dominic sat and watched as Jamie ploughed his way through his second portion of chips.

“Definitely hungry. How old are you , Jamie?”

Jamie stopped eating and washed his mouthful down with some coke. “ Sixteen and I'm starvin', ain’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Why?” Tom asked.

“Don’t got enough money, have to choose between eating an heating. Don’t have to eat every day. Used to when Mattie was here, he always nicked good stuff.”

“Food?” Dominic asked.

Jamie was quiet for a second, then said, “Yeah, an other stuff.”

Dominic could guess what other stuff, stuff they could sell he had no doubt.

“So, why are you lookin’ for Mattie?” Jamie asked.

“He’s got family that are worried about him.”

Jamie gave him an odd look.

“Mattie said you were a shit at lying. He told me you an him had a thing. S’alright to care about him, I do too.”

Dominic decided to be straightforward, he though this kid would appreciate it. “Jamie, Matthew is unwell.”

“He’s sick, what with. He didn’t look it.”

“Not physically, Jamie…mentally.”

Jamie blinked, then said, “Wouldn’t surprise me, wot with the thing the bastards have done to him. He escape from the loony bin?”

“No, but we need to find him. He hasn’t been taken his medication.”

“I don’t know where he is?”

“We know that, but we have an idea.”

“Then why don’t you go get him,” Jamie said.

“Because we only have an idea, but we need help, and myself and Tom here think you can help.”

“Why would I help you?”

“Because you care about Mattie.”

“Yeah, don’t mean I’m gonna rat him out to the likes of you.”

“I get that, but Mattie isn’t himself at the moment, and you know what kind of people there are out there.”

Jamie looked at Dominic, then at Tom. “If I say yes, what do you want me to do?”

“You know the streets and the people that work it. They have eyes and ears in places we can’t get to.”

“Okay, but I’m only helping cos’ of Mattie.” Dominic smiled, “Okay, we’re going to give you some photos and a number plate, and my and Tom’s numbers. Just ask around, someone might have seen these people or this car parked outside a house. There’s plenty of food and money for stuff in it for you.”

“Okay,” Jamie said and went back to eating his chips.

Tom pulled him away and said quietly, “Can we trust him?”

“We have to, Tom. We can’t cover the whole bloody city, and god knows how long it is before Matthew gets into trouble that could get him killed.”


	10. Chapter 10

“I’m going to try and get in that shelter tonight.”

“What…why? You know there’ll be busybodies.”

“I can’t sleep outside again. One, it’s bloody freezing, and I don’t really fancy being some moron’s football again.”

Matthew stretched as he felt his back twinge. He was certain there would be a boot-shaped bruise on his back; one that had only just missed one of his kidneys. If it had only been one low-life he would have been fine, he knew how to fight. But when he had several of his equally moronic mouth-breathing friends with him, all he could do was roll up in a protective ball, and wait for them to get bored. He knew he should have gone to the nearest A&E, but his paranoia and the now permeant voice in his head stopped him.

“True…oh, you’re talking out-loud to me, people are staring.”

“So, I’m just another crazy, who takes notice of another lunatic on the streets.”

“Don’t blame me if some passing coppers spot you and see that lovely shiner you’re sporting, and start asking questions.”

Matthew let out a snort, as if he couldn’t outrun any copper, and what was wrong with having a normal conversation. Okay, maybe having it with a voice in your head was odd, but he didn’t have anyone else to talk to, so the voice in his head it was. It had been two months since he’d left that house, and he had already left Hassan behind, the voice telling him that in the end it really didn’t like that name. He was reverting to the Matthew that had survived the street of Manchester…apart from hearing the voices…well, one voice now.

He hadn’t heard the other voice for a while, the voice that had been his only comfort after his uncle’s ‘visits.’ Now the only voice was the one that spoke to him of ‘other things’…violent, dark things. The voice that whispered to him and laughed when he broke into a house and stole, that egged him on when he stole from those that stole from others.

“Actually, the shelter will have stuff we can probably nick, especially them busybodies, wallets, purses, nice plastic friends…house keys.”

 

************************

“He’s here again.”

“Hmm.”

“Over there, trying not to get noticed by anyone. The one that talks to himself.”

The person who had been addressed looked up, and saw the person being talked about. A young man, with a mess of black hair and the remnants of shocking red at the tips, was trying his best to blend into the wall, whilst trying to eat the hot food. She could see from here that he was sporting a raw looking black eye and less vivid bruising on the rest of his face. He’d turned up the week before and they had noticed him because he was new, and the fact that he seemed to be carrying on a conversation with someone only he could either see or hear.

She sighed; yet another poor soul that needed help and had no doubt been let down by the woeful lack of mental health services.

“Is the volunteer counsellor in yet?”

“About ten minutes ago.”

“Right.”

********************

Matthew really wanted to just fade into the wall. He was beginning to regret stepping inside the shelter, even if it felt good to have warm food in his belly. He’d managed to get next to the wall and hoped that the glowers and all-round anti-social vibe he was exuding would mean he would be left in peace. He was trying to ignore the voice, knowing that if he didn’t, he would talk back to it and draw unwanted attention.

He thought it was working, until he felt someone sit next to him, and a bowl of something was placed in his line of vision; he ignored it.

“You don’t want pudding. It’s apple crumble and custard, nice and hot.”

His nose twitched at the aroma, apple, cinnamon and the vanilla of the custard. No, he wasn’t going to be tempted. You show any weakness, they’d have you.

“You do know you’re safe here. Safe from whatever you’re running from and from whoever did that to your face.”

He wasn’t going to answer, and the voice was telling him not to.

“You talk, they’ve got you.”

The person sitting next to him didn’t move away. He really didn’t want to talk, but the person’s voice sounded so warm and unthreatening and that apple crumble was far too tempting. For once he ignored the voice and he grabbed the bowl…. oh, it did taste good.

 

“Is your friend telling you not to talk? I understand why. Was that the result of talking? Do you want someone to look at that eye?” the person said and touched his arm. 

He dropped the spoon and flinched away…no. he didn’t want touching…touching lead to other things. Now he did speak and his words were laced with the venom of the voice in his head.

“Back the fuck off,” he snarled and stood, the table scraping the floor as he did.

Now, all eyes were on him and it only made it worse, as the voice hissed at him to get out. Without another word, he barged past the person who had touched him and fled from the dining area, and into the dormitories.

The counsellor blinked once and looked at the empty space that had been occupied. There was no doubt in his mind that whoever the young man was he was the victim or had been the victim of some form of violence, no doubt some idiot who thought it would be fun to beat up someone who couldn’t defend themselves. 

If the young man had some kind of mental health problem, he would need help. Mental health really wasn’t his field, but he knew people that could help. He opened his phone and found the number he wanted.

“Hello,” a man answered on the third ring.

“Morgan, it’s Andrew, Andrew Steading.”

“Andrew, haven’t heard from you in a while. You still volunteer at the shelter?”

“Yes, I’m there now, that’s why I’m calling you. I need to ask a really big favour. There’s someone here that I think needs your kind of help. Would you mind coming and talking to him?”

“All right, but you do realise that you can’t force them to seek help.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be about half an hour.”

“Thank you.”

***************************  
Morgan walked into the shelter and asked for Andrew and was directed to a small office. He greeted his friend, but now wasn’t the time for catching-up.

“So, where’s this person you’re worried about?”

“He’s in the dormitories, I’ll show you where.”

He followed Andrew.

“He’s a little skittish and unpredictable. The volunteers said he sometimes talk to someone who isn’t there…now where is… ah, there.”

Morgan looked to where Andrew was pointing and froze…dear god, it couldn’t be… it was Matthew.


	11. Chapter 11

Morgan backed out of the dormitory, much to the puzzlement of Andrew.

“Is there a problem?”

“His name is Matthew, he was one of my patients, He went missing two months ago, which means he hasn’t been taking his medication either.”

“Medication?”

“He suffers from Dissociative Identity Disorder.”  
“Is he violent? Do I need to call the police?”  
“No police, that would definitely set him off. I need to get him back to my clinic and back to his family. But if he sees me now, he will run. I need to text someone who can help me. It would be easier if he was isolated from the others.”

“I can do that, we’re giving out free flu-shots. We do it in a separate room. He won’t pass up a free vaccination.”

“It would be better if he was the last one in, less chance of disruption.”

“We can do that. But we have to talk to the nurse first.”

Morgan nodded as he texted the person he needed. The reply was almost instant.

“My help will be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, let’s go talk to the nurse first, then we can work this out.”

Morgan hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a repeat of the chaos that had happened back at his clinic. He just had to hope that Matthew wasn’t too unstable or in the throes of an episode.

****************************

Matthew once again tried to make himself unnoticeable. It wasn’t easy, as he’d had a short squabble with someone twice his size, to get the bed next to the radiator. He’d won, size of the fight in the dog after all. He sat with his back to the radiator, hoping the heat would ease the ache from the bruising. He sat with his knees drawn up and his head down…stay small…go unnoticed.

He didn’t see a familiar figure, one that would have sent him running out into the cold night. He did look up when one of the people running the shelter announced they were giving out free flu-shots. It wasn’t going to be rugby scrum, those still in the dining area and closet to the door would go first, and those at the back would go last.

He wasn’t going to pass up anything free, and it suited him down to the ground going last. It meant the person doing it would be wanting to get home, and was less likely to ask about the state of his face. He was trying to ignore the voice, who was saying ‘that there might be stuff he could steal and sell.’

He shook his head, he didn’t want to be chucked out, or worse, get arrested; because being arrested would mean he would end up back in a life he wanted to leave behind.

The voice wasn’t happy being ignored.

“No,” he whispered.

The voice went quiet, and he guessed it was sulking. He frowned, it puzzled him as to how a voice in his head could sulk; it wasn’t a real person...right? But there were times when he would wake up, smelling of petrol and smoke, and not know where he was and how he got there, and the voice when it spoke again, sounded happy and very pleased with itself.

Sometimes he would pass a burnt-out car on a piece of wasteland and wonder.

He watched as his fellow dorm-mates filtered back and forth, soon it would be his turn. It took about ten minutes for it to be his turn and as he made his way to the small room, he saw the nurse approaching. She smiled at him and said.

“Take a seat, I’ll be back in a minute.”

He shrugged his shoulders and entered the room and sat on the chair. He didn’t turn when he heard footsteps, it sounded like there was more than one; probably one of the shelter workers. It was only when he heard the door close and what sounded like a key being turned, that he did turn.

He froze when he recognized the two people, but only for a moment. He shot off the chair, but there was nowhere to go, the door was locked and the man he’d fought with back at the clinic was standing against the door…. Tom Kirk.

“It’s okay, Matthew,” he heard the other person, the person who had chemically neutered his mind say.

“Like fuck it is,” he snarled and still went for the door.

“Then I’m sorry,” Professor Nicholls said. “Tom.”

This time he couldn’t break the iron grip of Tom Kirk, nor could he stop the sharp sting of a needle. As the sedative took him, he heard the voice snarl out it’s anger.

***********************

Dominic had been at the same soup run, hoping that Jamie would be there tonight, he knew he was hoping that he would have news of Matthew’s whereabouts, but he’d also grown to like the kid. He was like the annoying kid brother that he had never had, and he was going to make sure that Jamie wouldn’t spend his whole life on the streets. If he never found Matthew, he hoped that he could honour his memory by helping that person who was his friend.

Now he found himself in Morgan’s clinic…they’d found Matthew in a huge stroke of sheer and unexpected luck. He wanted to see him before the Wolstenholmes arrived, he didn’t want to intrude on their reunion.

“How is he?” he asked Morgan as they walked towards the more secure rooms; the sense of Deja-vu washing over him.

“I’m not sure yet, I haven’t given him any of his medication. I need to assess how far he might have slipped back. It’ll be better if you and I see it than his family, he wasn’t too happy with me and Tom.”

Morgan’s beeper going off stopped their conversation and ended when Morgan began to run. Dominic hurried after him and saw that the secure door was open, held that way by one of the orderlies. It sounded like there was full blown riot going on inside, and there was.

“I don’t know how it happened, his door was definitely locked,” the orderly was saying.

As Dominic walked in and froze…two orderlies were struggling to haul a very familiar figure back into a room.

“You fucking bastards…lemme go….fucking let me go!”

Dominic paled, those words were not spoken in Matthew’s voice. It wasn’t even a voice he recognized…no… please, it could only be one thing…one of Matthew’s personalities had finally broken through.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortish chapter, but an important one, as things are slowly being revealed.

“Good morning, Matthew.”

“He’s not here.”

“And you are?”

“Yep.”

“And what do I call you?”

“Not falling for that trick.”

“What trick?”

“You want to know my name and get all friendly.”

“Don’t you want to be friends?”

“Nope, you get all pally, then bam! Someone sticks you with the happy juice.”

“What if Matthew wants to be friends?”

“He’s got me. I look after him.”

“Really, and how do you look after him?”

“None of your business, shrink.”

There was silence, then Matthew shifted on his bed, before speaking again.

“I hope its rice pudding for afters today.”

Morgan paused…at last, Matthew had managed to break through. “Matthew?”

“Or maybe it’ll be ice cream…that’d be nice.”

Morgan didn’t press him, this happened every time Matthew was present; he was there but not completely. “We’ll talk again tomorrow, Matthew?” He packed the camera away and locked the door behind him. Matthew had been back for a month, but there had been no improvement. Some of his colleagues had suggested that Matthew may never recover. He didn’t believe that, he wasn’t going to consign Matthew to permeant residency; he was only twenty-two, for god’s sake.

He had no doubt that the abuse he’d suffered as a child had played its part, and the ‘Mattie’ personality had borne that out. But the other personality, that was more troubling. He was sure it was borne of something much darker, and he believed that some of it had bled into ‘Hassan’. It would explain why Matthew had willingly stayed with Aziz, and had been turning into a younger version of said man. There had to be something that triggered the birth of this personality, and it was something that Matthew would have to face, it was the key to saving Matthew, he was sure of it. He sighed and altered the instructions on the dosage of the anti-psychotics they were hiding in Matthew’s water; not that they seemed to be working.

**********************

_It hurt, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to cry out; they’d take him away from his family, if he did. Like they do to all the bad boys. But he’d never done this before, and it was hurting him. He let out a whimper of relief when he stopped, and tried not to cry when his uncle said he was a good boy and that he would be back._

_“He’s going to rape you,” a voice he’d never heard before said._

_He didn’t know what the word rape meant, but the way the voice said it, it must be a bad thing._

_“I won’t let him do that. He’ll never touch you again.”_

_The voice sounded angry…maybe he should tell his mum and dad that he was hearing voices._

_“No, they don’t care. If they did, they wouldn’t let him do those things.”_

_Liar, he thought back._

_“They know what he does, better you that your brother.”_

_No._

_“I can make him stop…make them pay.”_

_The voice didn’t sound angry anymore; it sounded soft, kind, friendly. No, he thought back and let sleep take him. He dreamt of stairs and matches and touching the can in the garage that daddy said he should never touch._

Matthew woke and slowly blinked the sleep from his eyes. For a few moments, he was unsure as to where he was, as the unremembered dream had left him confused. Slowly he recognized his surroundings…no, he couldn’t be back here, how had he gotten back here? He started to panic, he didn’t want to be here. This place meant old memories would return…painful memories, memories that seemed to lurk in the shadows of his mind. Memories that the voice told him were not important when he tried hard to bring them into the light. His head still felt fuzzy, and he wasn’t sure why.

He spotted a jug of water and a filled glass next to it. He was about to drink when it clicked as to why his head felt fuzzy…the bastards were slipping his crazy pills into his water. He threw the glass to the floor and the jug followed…oh they were sneaky. He looked around the room until he found the camera.

He tapped his temple with his finger…I know what you’re doing.

************************

_“What are you going to do with those?”_

_“Going to make something pretty,” he replied._

_“Yeah, right, you ain’t got the balls to do it.”_

_“You think, just you watch.”_

_The flames licked at the sides of the building, and it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen._

_“You’re a fucking loony!”_

_He laughed as the ones with no balls sped off, and he laughed to himself as he watched the flames spread, and then as he watched the firemen from a distance….it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen._


	13. Chapter 13

“So, who are we talking to today. If it’s the same person I spoke with last time, it would be nice to be on first name terms.”

Morgan waited for a response, hoping that it was Matthew that would respond. But judging by the last session, it would probably be the more aggressive personality. There were question that needed answers, and he was certain he was near to some kind of revelation. But at the critical moment, Matthew had reverted into his withdrawn state.

He wished he knew more about Matthew’s childhood, outside of his family life. They said he’d always been quiet and never acted out, but he knew that abused children would find an outlet for the anger that such abuse would incur. But the enquiries he made about his school life and any other activities had shown nothing out of the ordinary, but that meant nothing. 

The dominant personality would have taken control at some time, unchecked as it would have been by drugs. It was everything Matthew was not, it was deceptive, manipulative, devious, all the things he would have needed to survive on the streets here in London and when he had been in Manchester.

He was more certain than ever that this personality was the key to everything; it may have all the most reprehensible traits, but it also acted and sounded protective, and he was now certain that there was some dark secret that had given birth to the personality, something that he was sure if it was brought into the light would be a huge step along the path to recovery.

“Are we not conversing today? You seemed to have so much to say last time. Oh well, perhaps next time. Enjoy your free time in the common room.”

********************

“Come on Matthew, even if it’s only for five minutes. Get some fresh air in your lungs,” the healthcare assistant said.

She tried to catch the patients eye, but it was deliberately avoided.

“That’s if you don’t mind sharing it with Stevie.”

She turned away, so she didn’t notice the sly look pass over Mathew’s face. When she turned back, the patient was gone…. good, at last something positive happened.

The clinic fell quiet as the patients were settled for the night…until the fire alarm rang out.

************************

Dominic virtually threw himself out of the taxi, he’d received a call from Christopher, but all he caught was, the clinic…. fire and that Matthew was okay. He found himself wandering amidst police, ambulance’s, and fire-crew, packing away their gear.

“Dom, over here!”

He spun round and saw Christopher waving by one of the ambulances. He felt panic rising, he thought he’d said that Matthew was okay. He hurried over.

“Is he okay?”

“They just wanted to check him over. He inhaled some smoke, and with his asthma.”

“What happened?”

“Morgan thinks one of the patients did it. Although he’s not sure how they got hold of anything to light it with. The bloke’s being treated for pyromania, and gets nowhere near anything like that.”

“Is it bad?”

“I don’t know, but they won’t be allowed back in. He’s trying to find somewhere for them to go. But we’re taking Mattie home.”

His surprise must have shown on his face.

“Dom, you know it’s going to one of those emergency secure units, and you know what will happen there if he kicks off. Mum and Dad said no way.”

“Chris, are you sure you and the family can handle him. He’s not on any meds.”

“We’ll handle it…. he’s family. Besides, it’s only until Morgan can get him relocated to his clinic in Berkshire, a few days.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

 

Their attention was taken by the ambulance doors opening, and the paramedics stepping out, followed by Matthew.

“He’s fine, just make sure he has plenty of fluids. If he does have a reaction, take him straight to A&E.”

Dominic hadn’t seen Matthew since he was admitted…dear lord, it was good to see him.

“Come on Mattie, let’s get you home,” Chris said.

Matthew didn’t speak, but meekly followed them back to the car. But that didn’t assuage the unsettled feeling in Dominic’s stomach. Matthew was unpredictable, he may be quiet now, but he could suffer another episode at any time; he wasn’t convinced that the Wolstenholme’s were truly prepared to deal with what those personalities could throw at them. He tensed when they drove through the gates of the house, Tom Kirk was going to be there, and Matthew reactions to him had been explosive to say the least.

However, Matthew just looked at Tom when he did see him, then looked away, seemingly interested in looking at something on the ceiling. He even seemed to tolerate the fuss his parents made over him, uttering a quiet ‘Yes’ and ‘Thank you’ to their question. He didn’t even object when the door to his bedroom was locked after they all retired.

The unease that Dominic had felt wasn’t going away, it was increasing.

**********************

Oh, how they had been easily fooled, there was no fun in it. It had been fun persuading the cleaner that had been smoking outside to give him a cigarette, then steal the lighter from his trolley as he picked up the bottle of cleaning fluid that he’d ‘accidently’ knocked onto the floor.

Then it had been fun to wind Stevie up and slip the lighter in his pocket, before sauntering off and acting the poor withdrawn Matthew again. He had to admit, the taste of smoke wasn’t as pleasant as the smell, but the thrill he got from seeing the chaos as the clinic was evacuated made up for it.

It was only a means to an end after all; he’d wanted out and of course, the bleeding hearts that were his ‘family’ ran to bring him back home. It had taken all of his self-control not to go for the throat of Tom Kirk; revenge burning through him like wildfire. He’d had plenty of time to think whilst locked away…Aziz wouldn’t have sold him…Aziz loved him. He would go back and ask forgiveness for running away…yes, he would do that.

He would show Aziz how loyal he was and how much he loved him…..of course, he was going to have some fun doing it. He let out a giggle as he removed the loose floorboard in his en-suite and retrieved the small box that held a set of keys and the codes to alarms and a phone.

He wasted no time in using his old escape route, how dense were Tom Kirk and his security team. He hunkered down by the wall that he had just clambered over and dialed a number he knew off by heart.

“Hadha hu Bishara.”

“Aziz…..faman Hassan.”

“ Ayn 'ant, limadha yahrib.”

“Kunt mushwasha .... 'urid aleawdat 'iilaa alwatan. Please, can I come home.”

 

****************************

 

Translation-  
“This is Bishara.”

“Aziz, it is Hassan.”  
“Where are you, why did you run?”  
“I was confused, I want to come home.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for my tardiness....my laptop and I had a difference of opinion....anyway, on with the story.....Matthew is about to become very bad.

Dominic’s bad feeling had been justified, and once again deja-vu had kicked him and the Wolstenholme’s hard. Matthew had only been home a couple of hours, and had once again gone; so much for him being subdued and compliant.

They would be eternally grateful to Tom Kirk, who’d had the foresight to search Matthew’s room. He’d found his hiding place and had placed a tracking device inside the phone he had found. However, tracking Matthew and retrieving Matthew would turn out to be something completely different.

Dominic could only watch as Matthew stepped out of the SUV and into what looked like a very exclusive and expensive looking block of apartments.

Glen Rowe, who had been driving got out and Tom took his place at the wheel. He then started to turn the car around.

“What are you doing?” Chris said.

“Those are private residencies.”

“So.”

“We can’t just barge in. Do you want to be arrested for trespassing?”

“But they have Mattie.”

“Chris, they didn’t take him, he went willingly.”

“But he’s just a kid!”

Tom stopped the car and turned in his seat, “He’s twenty-one. You call the police, they’ll just say he’s an adult and can do what he wants.”

“I’m not leaving him with whoever they are!”

“There’s nothing we can do tonight. I’m leaving Glen and another team to watch this place. We can keep tabs on Matthew. We’ll know if and when he leaves.”

“We can’t leave him, Tom,” Dominic said.

“We have to, for now. At least he’s not on the street.”

That didn’t really comfort either of them, but they knew that Tom was right. But Dominic could only wonder and worry about who Matthew was with.

***************************

Aziz had not been expecting that call, he had despaired of ever seeing Hassan again after he disappeared from his house. In fact, he’d thought he would never see him after that fateful night Then fortune had been kind, with that encounter in Selfridges. He’d been shocked and dismayed that his beloved Hassan had thought him dead, then angered when he was told that ‘they’ had treated him like a common criminal; not even allowing him to mourn.

They had just started to settle back into the life they had lead, with Hassan helping him rebuild and regain what had been taken from him, when that incident had happened and he saw that Hassan was not well. Then he’d somehow slipped away and was once again lost to him.

Now he was once again staring into those eyes, hoping not to see the glint of insanity he had seen before.

“Hassan?” he said.

Suddenly he had his arms full of a sobbing Hassan, babbling apologies in Arabic; soaking his shirt with tears.

“Hassan, look at me.”

Hassan obeyed.

“Why did you run?”

Hassan lowered his head, “I thought you were going to give me away.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Y-you drugged me.”

“Yes, I did.”

“W-why?”

“You were…. unwell, you needed rest.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

He lifted Hassan’s head and brushed away a tear, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re back, and we are together…. yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good, it’s late and you look tired. Go shower and we shall go to bed.”

Hassan’s eyes suddenly narrowed.

“Are you telling me what to do?”

Aziz could sense the shift in Hassan’s demeanor.

“If I want to go to bed, I will and not because you tell me to.”

“Hassan, you’re tired.”

“Whatever, I want a drink.”

Aziz shook his head, “No.”

“Yes,” Hassan snapped back, and began looking for any sign of alcohol.

Aziz grabbed hold of his arm and Hassan’s head whipped round.

“Let go of me.”

“No, you will not be drinking. It’s late and you are going to bed.”

“Make me,” came the venom-laced reply, along with an attempt to pull away.

Aziz held tight, “You’re tired or you would not be so belligerent.”

“I’m not a child to be told what to do.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

“Let go, or I will hurt you.”

“I doubt that.”

He felt Hassan once again try and free himself. He tightened his grip, ignoring his hiss of anger.

“Hassan, stop this.”

“Like I said, make me.”

He locked eyes with Hassan again, and he saw that same wild look. He realised anger was not going to get the result he wanted.

“Hassan, be calm. Tomorrow I have a business meeting, you will attend. Then I will buy you the most expensive bottle of whatever you want.”

He watched Hassan carefully, relaxing slightly when he saw the wild look leave his eyes.

“Spending money, I can do that. So, where’s the bathroom.”

Aziz blinked at the sudden change in demeanor; had there been some truth in what the doctor had said? He could live with it, in fact, he could probably use it to his advantage This more unpredictable and unstable Hassan could be very useful, as long as he could rein him in.

“The bathroom is this way. I will find you some nightwear.”

Hassan looked at him and said in that voice, the one that always made him burn.

“Oh, I won’t be needing any.”

***************************

Tom Kirk sat next to Glen and watched as the small cavalcade swept through the gates of the well-appointed house. Glen had called him to tell him that the same SUV was back. He’d arrived just in time to see the SUV appear from the underground car park.

It had been joined by three other vehicles and they had followed them out of the city and into the outermost suburbs. It was a stroke of luck that the gates were directly opposite the main entrance and they were given a clear view.

Three of the vehicles divulged their passengers, heavies by the looks of them; all probably armed. Matthew stepped out of the last vehicle, but he couldn’t see who the other passenger was. He watched Matthew, to see if he was under any duress, but he didn’t look like it; his stance was too relaxed. The SUV pulled away, revealing the other passenger. He nearly dropped the camera he was holding….it couldn’t be, that person was dead.

He blinked, but the person was still there, and he had an arm around Matthew’s waist.

“That’s not possible,” he breathed.

“What’s not possible?” Glen said.

“He’s dead…that bastard’s supposed to be dead.”

“Who is it?”

“Bishara…. Aziz Bishara.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matthew has stepped onto the dark path.....and Tom Kirk lies.

Tom Kirk couldn’t believe that Aziz Bishara was still alive. He swore he’d seen him die; he’d pulled Matthew away from his body himself…. seen the photos of his funeral. It had been a pack of lies, but who had told them?

He pushed those thoughts to one side, getting Matthew away from that non-dead bastard was the priority. Leaving him under Bishara’s influence again would be a very bad thing; Matthew was even less stable than the last time. How was he going to break this to his family?

“Tom, more cars coming.”  
Glen saying his name broke his line of thought. He looked down the road and indeed there were more cars arriving, cars that spoke of ‘money and power.”. Were these Bishara’s new business partners…dear lord, what if Bishara was introducing Matthew to them? Was Bishara intent of continuing whatever he’d been playing before his ‘death.’?

He had the feeling that whatever it was, it would be very bad for Mathew….so he made a decision that he hoped he wouldn’t regret.

********************

“Why am I wearing this?”

“Because you are.”

“What was wrong with what I was wearing?”

“You looked like a street walker.”

“You weren’t complaining when you were taking them off last night.”

“Those clothes would not have been suitable. The people we are meeting are potential business partners.”

“So, why are you dressing me like a high-class whore instead of a cheap whore?”

“Hassan, you are anything but that. I have need of your talents.”

“You want me to flirt with them. Not all of them are going to be into men or boys.”

“But some of them are. I have done my research, and I will point them out to you.”

Hassan let out a huff of air…fine, but he wanted something in return; he wanted some fun.

“Fine, but if I feel a hand going where I don’t want it, they’ll lose it. Then I want to do something, something destructive.”

“Destructive?”

“I like fire.”

He held Aziz’s gaze, looking for signs of insanity, eh? Oh, it’s there, but he’d gotten good at hiding it.

“We shall see, but business first.”

Hassan stood quietly behind Aziz’s chair, waiting for his signal. Not that he needed to be shown who to target, he could see for himself which eyes had followed him when he had walked into and across the room.

“Why should we do business with you?”

“You are aware of who I am?”

“We’re aware that you lost your business.”

“Which I am in the process of reclaiming.”

“In a messy turf war. Do you intend to do the same here?”

“Violence was necessary there. Here I prefer to be more civilized. Hassan, would you please hand out my proposals.”

************************

Aziz felt Hassan move and watched as he began his well-tuned act. As he watched, at the back of his mind was what he’d seen in Hassan’s eyes. Oh, he’d seen it; Hassan was not in his right mind, and that made him a dangerous weapon, but a weapon that he had control of. Still, he should make plans to have psychiatric help on hand.

The meeting went exactly as he expected. The ones that didn’t even want to consider a partnership walking out, and the ones that had more to gain than loose staying. It had helped that Hassan’s ‘act’ had influenced at least one of them; not that he was happy that the person had asked if Hassan was available.

Hassan had just smiled at him and ran a finger down the person’s arm, then said, “I am so out of your league.”

Aziz smiled at that, but he had to deal with the ones that were going to be his rivals, what to do? Of course.

“Hassan, you said you wanted to something destructive.”

******************

“At least four fire crews were needed to contain the fire. The warehouse was closed at the time, but several of the surrounding buildings were evacuated. The police are treating this as arson and are connecting it with another fire last week, since at both sites traces of an accelerant were detected. The police are asking if you have any information please call either 111 or Crimestoppers, where you call will be taken in confidence.”

Dominic turned away from the news and back to what he should be doing. He opened another file on his lap-top…god, this kid looked so much like Matthew when he’d first met him. He sat back…. Matthew…. oh, how he missed him. There had been no news since he’d been seen walking into that building, but Tom had said that they had lost the car the next day in traffic…Matthew was lost again.

He sighed, the cycle was beginning again…would they ever see Matthew again.

*****************

Tom Kirk hadn’t ventured into this particular place since his undercover days. But he needed the expertise of the man that ran this place. He sat at the bar, waiting to catch the barman’s attention.

“Bloody hell…as I live and breathe, Tom Kirk. What brings you to my humble business?”

“Hello Rob, I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

***********************

Oh, he’d enjoyed watching those warehouses burn; even if it had only because Aziz had allowed it. He had planned to stay long enough to steal some money and disappear, but now he was going to stay…he could have a lot of fun here.


	16. Chapter 16

Base heavy music assaulted his ears as he descended the stairs. It didn’t bother him, he was here to work. He stopped on the last step before the dancefloor and scanned the club, just to make sure the reason he was here was actually here…ah there he was, time to work.

“So…Mattie, you look young to have a place like this.”

“My family are big in gold and rare minerals. On my eighteenth they gave me one of their companies as a present. It made two million last quarter. But I don’t think you’re here to talk about portfolio’s.”

“No, but you can’t tell anyone we’re doing this. My family and my fiancé’s family think I’m straight. They find out….”

He smiled at the other person, then said, “Don’t worry, I can keep secrets. You look really tense, I have something in my bedroom that’ll relax you.”

In the morning, he saw the person off, with another promise of keeping this secret, and smiling when the person gave him his number. He closed the door and walked back into the bedroom, picking up what looked like an ornamental wooden box. He removed a digital recorder and sat on the bed, and watched the film back. He picked up the bedside phone.

“It’s done…yeah, the film is good and he’s hooked. You owe me something, a very expensive something, Aziz. Now I am going to shower his smell off me, I’ll see you in an hour.”

*********************

Dominic had become frustrated with the lack of news about Matthew. So, he’d started his own search, hence the reason he was out with a volunteer group handing out condoms to the street workers, and showing them a picture of Matthew.

Of course, he only got negatives, why would they trust a stranger; he could be an undercover copper. He was about to give up, when a voice said.

“You lookin’ fer Matty?”

He turned and did a double-take.  
“Bloody ell’…. you!”

“Jamie.”

Once again, he was sitting watching Jamie wolf down food…. did this kid ever eat?

“You still lookin’ fer’ ‘im?”

“Yes.”

“He ain’t nowhere round here, anyways. Thought he might be working the rich johns, tried askin’ round, but got me a beating cos’ I weren’t workin’ enough.”

Dominic frowned, when Jamie said he’d got a beating. He wasn’t shocked; it happened.

“You still living in that shit bedsit?”

“Nah, bastard landlord kicked me out when I wouldn’t shag him for rent money. I got standards.”

“You on the streets?”

“Got me a nice warm spot.”

Dominic reached into his coat pocket and placed two cards on the table.

“This is the address of the nearest shelter, if you ever feel unsafe, go there and show them this card. My number is on the back. Call me or get them to call me…I can help.”

Jamie looked at him, with the same look he’d seen on all the street kids he’d offered a chance of freedom to…suspicion.

“I might, or I mightn’t,” Jamie said. “Thanks for the grub, but I gotta get back workin|’.”

Dominic let out a sigh as he watched Jamie disappear back on the street. He didn’t feel like going back out, …what was it Jamie had said? Was Matthew in the hands of another Donnie? Gods, he hoped not. It also meant that he couldn’t look for Matthew any more…men like that had no qualms about using violence.

He opened his phone and brought up a photo…the night of the Festival of Light, when Matthew had looked like the happy young man he should be.

“Oh, Matthew.”

******************************

“You want to put someone inside this guy’s operation?”

“Not just inside, I want then to be right in his face. We’ll never snatch Matthew from the outside.”

“This Matthew, why is he worth risking one of my men for. This Bishara is the kill and not ask questions later kind of bad.”

Tom handed him a file, “Read this, then decide.”

The man only got halfway through, before saying.

“I’ve got the perfect guy. Can I show him this?”

********************************

Hassan walked out of the house and towards the car, He stopped when he saw someone he didn’t recognize.

“Where’s Richard?”

“Got himself caught driving some merchandise.”

“Oh, and you are?”

“Johnathan, sir.”

“Okay, Johnathan, and please don’t call me sir. Makes me feel like I’m fifty-one, not twenty-one. Call me Hassan, Richard always did.”

“Where are we going today, Hassan?”

Hassan sighed, “To the apartment.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, it’s fine, but it always means business.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“I don’t mind…but sometimes I wish I could go into the city for…pleasure.”

“Then, why don’t you?”

“Because Aziz wouldn’t be happy. He doesn’t like me going places he doesn’t know about.”

“Does he have to know?”

Hassan narrowed his eyes, then grinned.

“You and me are going to get on, Johnathon.”

He enjoyed his day and his new driver didn’t say a word. In fact, he had several sojourns…. then Aziz found out.

***************************

The staff and the minders turned a deaf ear to the loud angry words that floated down the stairs, they ignored the slight figure that barreled down the stairs and out of the front door; they weren’t paid to see or hear such things.

Johnathon however, he was being paid to look and listen. He was being paid to divide and then steal. So, he pushed himself off the car he’d been leaning against and followed Hassan, finding him taking his anger out on an innocent patch of lawn.

He smiled and sympathized when Hassan threw himself at him and said comforting words when Hassan said that Aziz didn’t trust him anymore…yes, the divide part was going to plan…. soon would come the steal.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Matthew about to start down the road to hell.........

“Where is Aziz?”

“Mister Bishara is busy. I’m here in his stead.”

“I’m not discussing business with his whore.”

The man regretted his words, as he was pinned to his own chair, the angry eyes of the young man he’d insulted, boring into his.

“As I said, I’m here in Mister Bishara’s stead. I’m here to discuss distribution of the shipment that is arriving on Saturday.”

The young man tilted his head and the two minders let go. He smoothed the man’s shirt and jacket.

“Now, perhaps we can be more civil, and get on with business. And my name is Hassan, not whore.”

********************

Aziz watched Hassan as he entered the building.

“Is this wise?”

“Hassan is eager to regain my trust, after his little sojourns. Besides, if he is to help me run my business, he needs to learn. He is also more knowledgeable in this particular case.”

“Of course, he spent time on the streets here. He was working within this patch, he would know who and where the dealers are.”

“Not just that, he has knowledge of dealers in other cities.”

“Through his connection to Donnie James.”

“Yes, he will help me expand.”

An hour later Hassan climbed back into the car.

“Well?” Aziz said.

Hassan handed him a mini I-pad, “Names, addresses, how much they shift and all that.”

“Did you have any problems?”

“He tried, until I persuaded him to be completely honest.”

“I hope you were courteous. I need allies, not enemies.”

“I was an absolute gentleman.”

Aziz let a smile cross his face; it seemed Hassan’s bid for independence had been fleeting.

He handed the I-pad to the other man, “Make sure the accountants get this. Johnathon, you can drop Mister Harris back at the office. Then drive us to Gaucho Canary, I am taking you to lunch, Hassan.”

**********************

Dominic still wasn’t sure this was a good idea; in fact, it was probably a bad idea. But he was desperate, and desperation made you do insane things. He would never dream of setting foot in a place like this, but needs must. As he thought, the place was full of good-looking men…dear god, he was certain some of them you could hardly call men.

He knew it was a bad idea, now that he was facing the ‘manger’ of the club and the two very large ‘security men’.

“So, why were you harassing my staff?”

“I wasn’t, I was hoping they’d seen someone I’m looking for.”

“That would be the person in this photo. Is he one of your employees?”

Dominic had to control the urge to tell him where to go, but he had to stick to his plan.

“No, he’s my cousin. He went missing a month ago.”

“And you thought he would be working here?”

“Matthew, that’s his name. He went missing before and was found working…well, you can guess.”

“Mister….?”

“Stephens.”

“Mister Stephens, I don’t know what you think this establishment is, but we are not in the habit of employing runways or someone that looks like he could be underage.”

“I just want to find my cousin.”

The man studied him carefully, making him feel very uncomfortable.

“Alright, Mister Stephens. If you leave now, I won’t call the police.”

Dominic nodded, his mouth too dry to say anything. He tried not to look back as he walked away from the club. He was about to get into his car, when someone called out. He turned; it was one of the workers from the club.

“I couldn’t say anything in there, but the person in that photo, he’s some rich blokes personal fuck. Helps him run a blackmail outfit.”

Dominic tried not to sound over eager.

“Do you know where?”

“Not me, you got a pen?”

The man wrote something on a card.

“Someone called Lucy, she knows where. Tell her Andy said it’s okay. But you tell no-one I spoke to you. I heard they don’t take snitching well.”

“Thank you.”

“He looks like a nice bloke.”  
“Yeah,” Dominic said. He sat in his car, looking at the number on the card, then at the photo of Matthew; he hoped that Matthew was still a ‘nice bloke’.

*******************************

“I haven’t had chance to get him alone again. This kid, you sure the family want him back?”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s something…I dunno, something’s not right with him.”

*****************

“You did well today,” Aziz said.

Of course I did, he said to himself. I don’t need you to tell me. It was fortunate that Aziz had plenty of what he wanted…for now. This Hassan was not the Hassan that submitted, when Aziz wanted. Oh, he played the part…. but when he grew tired of this charade, he would come out to play.

“Hassan, are you listening to me?”

He blinked and gave Aziz his most blinding smile, “Sorry, just thinking.”

“Oh, what about?”

“How much sleep you are not going to get tonight.”

“Hassan, so forward. But before pleasure, we have business…. unpleasant business.

****************

Three men were on their knees, in front of the man that they had been working for.

“You broke your loyalty to me, and I do not tolerate disloyalty. Hassan here will show you what loyalty is.”

The men watched as the young man that had been standing quietly moved forward. They all tensed when the man handed him a gun.

The young man looked at the gun, then at the man.

“Chose which one dies first.”

The young man took the gun, his hand shaking slightly. He stood in front of one of the men, and placed the barrel of the gun against the man’s temple.


	18. Chapter 18

Aziz watched as Hassan placed the gun against the man’s temple. Would he pull the trigger? He could see the tremor in Hassan’s hand. Oh, he’d found out that Hassan had ordered the execution of Donnie James and Alexi Dematrov, but that had been fueled by vengeance, when the blood was hot and the hurt still raw. This was murder, cold, calculated, and brutal.  
How deep was Hassan’s loyalty, and how far was he prepared to push that loyalty? He heard the click of the safety, and saw Hassan’s spine stiffen, then he dropped his arm.

“I can’t,” Hassan said.

Aziz sighed and took the gun, “Take Hassan to the car, and tell Johnathon to keep an eye on him, and to make sure he keeps the doors locked.”

He waited until Hassan had been taken away, before raising the gun.

*****************

Johnathon wasn’t exactly sure what was going on inside the warehouse, but he could make a very good guess, and the kid they wanted him to retrieve was right in the middle of it. He was certain there was something off about him; he really didn’t act like he was being forced to do something.

But he wasn’t here to judge whether the kid was here willingly or not; his job was to retrieve. He jumped when he heard a muffled sound….a gunshot he realised. He didn’t get to think on it, as the door opened and Hassan got in.

“Boss says keep an eye on him, don’t let him out,” then he was left with Hassan, who looked upset.

“You okay, Hassan?”

“I failed him.”

“Hassan?”

“Oh god…oh god. He’ll do it. I failed him…he’ll do it.”

Johnathon could hear panic in Hassan’s voice. He was about to speak again, when Hassan started trying to open the door.

“Let me go…please.”

What the hell was going on, the kid looked distraught and sounded terrified. He knew the kid had been through some shit, but he wasn’t privy to the details.

“Hey, calm down.”

He was ignored and Hassan started kicking at the door; the force of his kicks causing Jonathon to fear he might miss-kick and go through the window. So, he made a decision and he hoped it was the right one; he released the child-lock.

Hassan froze, having heard the shunk of the lock. He looked at Johnathon, who hoped the kid wouldn’t rabbit, but he did and Hassan moved quicker than he expected.

“Shit,” he swore and shot out of the car.

Christ, the kid was fast, he thought as he chased after him. This had gone wrong and way too fast for his liking; he had to catch him and get him back before Bishara returned. Even that was taken from him, when he heard Bishara in his ear-piece.

“Johnathon, where are you and where is Hassan?”

He had to do some ultra-quick thinking. He slowed down to a jog before he spoke.

“Sorry sir, Hassan saw someone leaving by a side door and ordered me to open the door, He took off after them before I could stop him. I’m in pursuit.”

Bishara swore in Arabic.

“Which way?”

Again, he had to make a split-second decision, this wasn’t an ideal way, but he could retrieve Hassan now.

“Towards the gates. Have to go sir.”

He ignored the shouted orders being given, and increased his pace, not towards the gates but further into the derelict industrial park. He’d made his decision, he was retrieving the kid, that was if he didn’t lose sight of him….the kid really was fast. 

He only just saw him duck inside a half- demolished building. He slowed to a walk and cautiously entered, acutely aware that it wouldn’t be long before Bishara discovered his lie. So he had one ear tuned to his earpiece and the other tuned for the sound of movement.

“Hassan, you don’t have to run,” he called, as he moved further into the building. He stopped when he heard the shuffle of feet.

“Why shouldn’t I? Not like you’d let me go. I’m valuable goods.”

Johnathon tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from.

“Goods, what do you mean by that?”

“He’s going to sell me, because I failed him.”

He didn’t reply straight away…maybe he could use this to his advantage.

“Yeah, he is. Sorry, kid.”

“What you sorry for, you don’t know me.”

“I’m insulted, I thought we were becoming friends.”

“You’re going to take me back.”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“If I was, why would I tell Aziz that you were heading for the gates.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because you’re not a slave, and I work for some people who really want you to come home.”

“I don’t have a home.”

Christ, I’m really not good at this, and time was running out.

“Yeah, you do, and a family that loves you and misses you.”

Only silence answered him.

“Hassan, you still there?”

Silence again…not even footsteps.

“Fuck,” he’d lost him, and he could hear shouting; his time was up. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he said and made his way out of the building, and away from the shouting and away from Hassan.

***********************

He couldn’t quite comprehend what Aziz wanted him to do…did he really want him to kill this man? He’d done many things, but murder wasn’t one of them. Was it a test? He’d taken the gun, and he could feel his hand shaking. He placed the gun against the man’s head…but his mind was rebelling….but Aziz was testing his loyalty, and he wanted to be loyal to Aziz.

He took the safety off, but then he froze…. he couldn’t do it…not this. He let his arm drop and he could feel the disappointment radiating from Aziz. It was only when he got back into the car, that he realised what this could mean….disappointment meant failure, and there was no place for failure in Aziz’s world.

Failure meant he wasn’t perfect and perfection was something Aziz wouldn’t tolerate, and there was only one thing Aziz did with imperfect things…so he ran.

He didn’t listen to the voice of Johnathon; he worked for Aziz after all….no, he would do as he always had done, before he’d been sold to Aziz. When he had to live on the cold and uncaring streets….when he’d been Matthew…he would survive alone.


	19. Chapter 19

Jamie had found himself a place to sleep; but he had to work for it; he was a decent ‘dipper’ and ‘lifter’. He’d had a good teacher, Matty was one of the best, and he’d taken him under his wing, showing him how to spot the undercover store security and coppers.

He was zeroing in on a mark, having seen them flash a credit card that would be worth a lot of money on the black market, when a hand appeared on his shoulder….no, not security. Then a voice he thought he would never hear again said.

“I wouldn’t, he’s a set-up.”

“Matty.”

He let Matty drag him away and out of the store, down a side-street, then into a side- alley. Only then did Matty let go.

“I bloody taught you better than that.”

“Fuck that, where the fuck have you been, you twat!?” he shouted, before dragging him into a hug, which Matty broke first.

“Seriously, where have you been. I ‘eard you had some rich sugar daddy.”

He saw Matty’s face harden.

“Did have, not anymore.”

“You on the streets again, you need somewhere to crash?”

“Yeah, you running with someone?”

“Yeah, they’ll let you stay. Be crazy not to, what wiv your skills.”

“Sure, but let’s take them something expensive and shiny.”

Thirty minutes later the two partners-in-crime were running full pelt down Oxford Street, with shop security and police in pursuit.

“This way!” Jamie yelled and they barreled into the tube station, leaping the ticket barrier, then hot-footing it down the escalator and had the luck of a train just pulling in, full off people.

“So, this place your living?” Matty say breathlessly.

Jamie grinned, “Oh, your gonna luv it.”

**********************

Matthew had been casing the store and had already lifted several purses. He was about to go after a delicious mark, when he spotted him…. oh, you idiot. He couldn’t leave Jamie to get caught; the kid would end up in care or be sent back to his bastard of a father.

He had no choice, not really. Then he’d been caught up in the thrill of lifting a very expensive watch, then running hell for leather. Now, he was facing the ‘leader’ of the gang Jamie was running with.

“You lifted this?” he said, holding up the watch.

“You’ll get at least a grand for it.”

The leader narrowed his eyes, “You ain’t from round here.”

“Nah, came from Manchester Used to work for Donnie James, till he got roasted. Didn’t like the new management, so I thought I’d try my luck here.”

“I heard he ended up crispy. If you’ve been in Manchester, how’s you know the kid?”

“You know he used to be a street-boy?”

The leader nodded.

“He used to be part of Donnie’s stable, so was I. We worked parties together.”

The leader nodded again, “Ain’t we all. Name’s Danny.”

“Matty.”

“Guess you can stay, we’ll see how good you are.”

He spent the next month proving himself. He’d forgotten how hard life was on the streets; his life a Donnie’s prize ‘rent-boy’ and Aziz’s ‘companion’ had softened his edges. But somehow, he’d ended up as Danny’s second- in-command and was in charge of half of the gang.

He was watching for easy marks, in what was a biting wind.

“We are so nicking some warmer clothes tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Jamie replied.

“Sod this, gonna call it, there’ll be too many coppers when the pubs and bars come out. Go find the others and meet me by the burger van.”

He watched Jamie scamper off, and let a rueful smile play across his lips; so much for living a lone life. He shoved away those thoughts as he saw the rest of the gang approaching. As the approached the van, they went from predatory criminals to a bunch of boisterous lads on the town.

Matthew was still in charge, too boisterous would draw the wrong kind of attention; the uniformed kind, and they would notice that some of them were too young to be out so late. Once they were fed and watered, he said.

“Right you lot, bugger off home. Tell Danny I’m going to off-load the cards you lot nicked. No lifting from the corner shop, and no hassling the locals.”

He was only halfway along the road, when he spotted a mark he couldn’t resist, her open bag a siren’s song. He was about to reach into the bag, when someone shouted.

“Oi, what the hell are you doing!?”

He jumped and the woman turned. She saw how close his hand was to her bag, she let out a screech.

This drew the attention not only of her friends, but also two police officers. Not wanting to be caught, he ran, ignoring the shouts for him to stop. He could feel and hear the two coppers behind him, so he dashed out into the road.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he heard the squeal of brakes, then he exploded with pain….and fuck knows why, but he thought he saw Dominic.

**********************

Dominic shivered and pulled his collar up; it was definitely chilly. He’d just done a shift at the shelter, just around the corner from people spending money like it was no problem…oh the irony. Now, he was leaving the only open coffee-shop, appreciating the warmth leaching from the cup. He was about to lift it to his lips, when a commotion caught his attention.

He thought it was just a scuffle and was going to look away, till he saw someone running….no, it couldn’t be…. Matthew. He found himself running, just behind the two officers, that were giving chase. He caught a fleeting glimpse of Matthew as he ran into the road.

Then, everything slowed down, as he saw a van, then saw Matthew go down.


	20. Chapter 20

“Matthew!” he cried, fear and panic giving him more speed, and he passed the two officers. He skidded to a halt and fell to his knees beside a prostrate Matthew. Was he dead? The van had hit him at speed. His eyes were open, but was there life in them?

“Matthew,” he choked out, and by some miracle, oh-so blues eyes, unfocused and limed with pain flicked towards his voice…. then they started to close.

“No, stay with me, the ambulance is coming. Can you hear it?”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, probably one of the officers.

“Keep talking to him, it’ll keep him conscious.”

He wanted to snap that he wouldn’t have to, if they hadn’t been chasing him. He’d taken hold of Matthew’s hand; it was cold, too cold, and memories of a dark, wet alley flashed through his mind. He felt a tremor go through Matthew, then a low groan that morphed into a liquid-filled cough. Blood trickled from his lips, and his eyes began to close.

“Hey, don’t go to sleep, Matty. Stay with me, yeah?” he said, squeezing a now trembling hand.

Then the ambulance came, and he was side-lined.

“Sir, do you know him?”

He nodded, “I’m a family friend. His name is Matthew.”

“Do you have a number or and address, Mister?”

“Howard, Dominic. Yes, I have a number…I’ll call them…lessen the shock.”

“Tell them he’s going to St. Mary’s.”

“I want to go with him,” he said as he took out his phone.

“Not in the ambulance, but you can go with the patrol car that’ll be going.”

He nodded, then let out a calming breath as the phone rang.

“Wolstenholme residence.”

“George, it’s Dominic. It’s about Matthew.”

“You found him!”

“George, you…. well everyone needs to get to St. Mary’s AandE…he’s been in an accident.”

**********************

A&E was very busy, but he felt very alone, since the Wolstenholme’s had been taken straight through to see Matthew. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there, too tired to even look at a watch or his phone.

“Dom?”

His name being spoken, startled him; it was Christopher.

“How is he?”

“He’s had a scan, there’s no damage to his brain, neck or spine. But one of his legs is fractured in two places. They’re taking him for surgery in a few minutes, to clean out…god, his leg is a mess Dom. They said he could be in hospital for months.”

************************

“Matthew.”

Hmm…someone was calling his name.

“Open your eyes for me. Matthew.”

Okay...oh, they feel so heavy.

“Well done, keep them open for me.”

He blinked slowly……. something was irritating his nose, so he raised a hand and felt a sharp tug…what, there was something attached to his hand.

“Let’s leave that in for a bit longer,” the same voice said. “Your oxygen level is a little low.”

“Kay’,” he tried to say, but his throat felt like fire.

A plastic cup and straw appeared, and he drank greedily…well tried, but it was taken away from him.

“Only a little bit, don’t want you to chill your stomach. You can have some more in a minute, alright? You can have a nice cup of tea when you get back to the ward.”

Ward…what?

“Don’t understand.”

“You’ve just come out of surgery. You’ll be a little confused until the anesthetic wears off.”

Surgery, that meant hospital…his head felt too fuzzy to comprehend, so he let what he guessed must be nurses do their job. His eyes were too heavy to keep open, so he closed them.

************************

Dominic had hated giving a statement to the police. He was finding it hard to be neutral, so he gave them the barest information. Yes, he was friend of Matthew’s family…yes, he was aware that Matthew had been missing for some time, but he wasn’t privy to why he’d gone missing, and no, he hadn’t been aware that Matthew was caught in the act of committing a crime, nor why he would be doing it. If they wanted answers, let then deal with the Wolstenholme’s formidable legal team.

Then there was Matthew himself, how was he going to react? How mentally stable was he? Were there going to be any permanent after-effects from the accident?

These and many other questions swam around his mind, as he approached the room that Matthew was in. He’d been moved to a private hospital as soon as it was deemed he was well enough to be transferred; it was easier for Morgan and his team to monitor Matthew than in an open ward. It had been six weeks since the accident, and he’d kept his distance.

Christopher had kept him updated, so he knew that Matthew had some serious metalwork in his leg, and he’d been in a lot of pain afterwards, not just from the fractures, but from the cuts, bruises and scrapes as well. Christopher also told him that, although Matthew’s other ‘personalities’ hadn’t surfaced, he still wasn’t Matthew; he’d reverted to the hardened ‘street Matthew’ that had worked for Donnie James.

It didn’t bode well, that as he approached the room, he heard a raised voice.

“Don’t try and give me those soddin’ zombie pills. I’ll fucking choke on em’ before I swallow them!”

A nurse emerged from the room, looking frustrated. She stopped when she spotted Dominic.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Dominic Howard, I’m here to see Matthew.”

“Oh, right. Well, he’s not in the best of moods. He’s had physio this morning, so he’s a little uncomfortable. He’s also refusing to take his meds.”

Dominic nodded, he needed to tread carefully then. He took a steadying breath and opened the door.

Matthew hadn’t noticed that he’d entered and was idly picking at the tape that held his IV in place.

“You keep picking that, and they’ll put it somewhere less comfortable.”

Matthew looked up, but didn’t say anything.

“Hello, Matthew.”

Matthew scowled, but didn’t look directly at him, “Thought I was seeing things, seems I wasn’t…shame.”

“Matthew.”

“What do you want me to say? Oh, Dominic, I’ve missed you.”

“No, but I’ve missed you, like it or not.”

“Like I care.”

“Well, I care, your family cares.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re the pep squad. Make Matthew feel good so he’ll take his pills like a good boy.”

Dominic knew he had to keep his cool, “Not my job to make you do anything. But they can just slip it in your IV when you’re asleep.”

“Make it easier then, they won’t have to deal with Matthew the ‘fuck-up’ will they.”

Dominic sighed, Matthew was all over the place emotionally; a sure sign that he need his medication.

“Like I said, I care.”

Matthew hadn’t looked him directly in the eyes, but when he did, it looked like his emotions had shifted again; he looked angry.

“Right, you cared so much, you didn’t bother looking for me.”

Now Dominic felt annoyed, “I did, every bloody night I was out there. But you went into that apartment block and fell off the bloody planet. Where were you?”

Matthew suddenly looked sad, “Somewhere I thought I belonged.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, then Matthew spoke again.

“Every night?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because, and god help me, I love you, even if you don’t love me.”

There was silence again… then.

“Get out.”

“Sorry?”

“I said, get out.”

“Matthew.”

“Please…. just go.”

Dominic did as Matthew had asked, but as he closed the door, he was sure he heard a sob.


	21. Chapter 21

He hated this. The metal in his leg felt like shackles; his cage was the room he was in. Once the fog of anesthetic and pain-killers had lifted, he started to feel trapped. As soon as he had been aware enough, he slammed the wall down that he had built around his emotions. He couldn’t recall what had happened after he’d run from the police, and he guessed he never would. But what he did know was, that the minute he was able to, he would be gone.

It wasn’t like they would want him back. Oh, they said things like ‘thank god you’ve been found’ and ‘be good to have you home’, but he knew they were only words. He knew he wouldn’t be ‘going home’; he would be put away, his mind dulled by ‘happy pills’ He’d been in pain since his physio, but he wasn’t going to take the tablets they left; he knew they wouldn’t just be pain-killers. So, he refused to take them and lived with the pain.

Then as if things couldn’t get worse, he turned up…so, they were sending in the big guns. He’d been doing fine with quashing his feelings, but his heart leapt when he saw him. Their conversation had been heated and bitter-filled; well, on his side anyway. Dominic hadn’t risen to the bait he’d reeled out. God, it hurt to see him, no matter what he told his treacherous heart.

He was just winning the battle, when Dominic had to say that he loved him, and a huge hole appeared in his defense', no, he didn’t want that, couldn’t allow himself to feel. So, he told Dominic to go…fuck, it hurt to do so. Dominic was the person that knew all but his darkest secret; who had treated him like a person, and not an object to be owned and used. He’d felt a love he never thought he would.

Oh…he so wanted that again, but he couldn’t. He tried to stifle the sob that welled up, but failed.

*****************************

“I saw ‘im, he’s hurt. Davy nicked a moped and followed the ambulance to Saint Mary’s.”

“Well, he ain’t there no more. I ‘eard from Trace, her sister’s a nurse there. She said she works on the ward he was on. Said he gone to some private hospital.”

“We ain’t gonna see him again.”

The young boy who had spoken first said, “I know where he is. Trace’s sisters mouth don’t stop runnin’ when she’s pissed. Trace got out of here where he went, said she only ‘membered cos’ there were coppers involved.”

“Still ain’t gonna see him again.”

“Why not, it ain’t the bloody nick. Don’t need all of us to get in,” Jamie said.

“Yeah, and the rent-a coppers they’ve got are gonna let you just walk in.”

“Won’t have to, cos’ I know someone who can get me in.”

“Yeah right.”

“Yeah…he’s a real bleedin’ heart.”

*******************

Dominic once again found himself working at the food van, where he’d first come across Jamie. He hoped to see him again, so he could tell him that he’d found Matthew. He’d just served a regular, when he spotted him, loitering at the edges of the people that were gathering. He knew Jamie wouldn’t approach him, so he dished out one of the meals and wandered towards him.

“You hungry?” he said as an introduction, then sat on the kerb whilst Jamie devoured the dinner.

“I found Mattie.”

Jamie stopped eating and looked at him, “That’s bloody brilliant. Where is he?”

“He’s in hospital.”

“Wot?” “

He was hit by a van nearly two months ago.”

“He okay?”

“Not really, he’s fractured a leg in two places. He’s had surgery to fix it, but he’s got to have more. He lost a lot of skin since the van dragged him some distance.”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell. Can I see ‘im.”

“Afraid not.”

“Oh,” Jamie said, then sighed and half-heartedly picked at the remaining food.

“It’s not up to me.”

“S’alright,” Jamie said, but he could see the beginning of tears. He sighed and said. “Let me call his family.”

He finished his call, then said, “Alright.”

“That’s bloody brilliant…when?”

“Be here at one tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.”

Jamie nodded, “Gotta go now.”

“You got somewhere to sleep?”

“Yeah, and it ain’t with no john. There’s a whole bunch of us. We look after each other.”

Dominic frowned, had Jamie been drawn into a gang?

“Just be careful yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Jamie stood then and Dominic watched him until he disappeared. His thoughts turned back to Matthew. Matthew had sounded so bitter, yet so lost. He hadn’t planned on saying that he loved him, so he wasn’t expecting the response from Matthew. He hadn’t argued with him and had left, but the sob he’d heard told him, that somewhere in Matthew’s damaged soul, he still loved him.

*********************

The one good thing about being in hospital, was that he got anything that he asked for. He’d gotten his tablet and his smart phone and clothes that he didn’t need to steal.

_“You know they’ll just lock you in the loony bin and stuff you full of happy pills.”_

_“It’s for the best, you know.”_

_“Don’t listen to him…he’s a spineless shit.”_

_“Am not.”_

_“Are too.”_

He clutched at his head…the voices were back.


	22. Chapter 22

He swore to god, if he was able to climb the walls, he would.

_“Yeah, and wouldn’t that earn you a first-class ticket to a nice pair of restraints.”_

The voices were starting to grate; it had been bad enough with just two, now a third had joined in.

_“Now, there’s an interesting thought, restraints. Make a lot of money doing restraints.”_

_“N-no, they used t-those….it hurts.”_

_“That’s the point, the pervs pay shit loads extra for it.”_

He wanted to scream at them to shut up, but that would mean they would know, and that meant he would be given no choice as to being medicated. He would rather suffer the voices, than the dulled world of chemical restraints; that and it would lessen his chances of getting away. He was even contemplating pulling out his stitches, in his desperation for a distraction; then he got one.

The last person he expected to see was Jamie, how the fuck had he found him? The how walked in behind him, Dominic. He kept silent until Dominic excused himself.

“What you doing here?”

“Seeing if your ungrateful arse is okay,” Jamie retorted, then carefully sat on the bed. “Your legs are pretty fucked.”

“No, are they?”

“Sarcastic bastard. Danny got himself nicked last month. We ain’t got no boss, I’m trying, but I ain’t you.”

“Right, you don’t miss me, just someone to give the orders.”

“Course’ we missed you, you daft tosser.”

“Hang in there, I’m gonna do my best to get back.”

“They ain’t gonna let go back on the streets. Especially if that rent-a-copper that grilled me has anything to do with it.”

Matthew hesitated before replying, not sure if he should say what he was going to say…fuck it, if he couldn’t confide in Jamie, who could he.

“Jamie, there may be another reason why I might not.”

************************

Dominic left because it was obvious that Matthew wasn’t going to speak while he was present; that and it seemed like the two of them wanted some privacy. He was appalled at the flash of jealousy, as he wondered if they were more than just friends. They were much closer in age than Matthew and himself, so it was possible. He shook himself mentally, it wasn’t as if he and Matthew were together. He distracted himself by talking with the ward sister, who told him that Matthew was making rapid progress, and if the consultant and the physio’s agreed, he could be discharged into his family’s care very soon.

He sighed, yes, he was happy that Matthew was physically recovering, but he knew that a much more serious and not so easily healed problem lay ahead; Matthew’s mental stability. He’d been off his medication for at least three months, and although he showed no sign of being unstable, Dominic knew that may not last. Morgan had wanted to transfer him to his private clinic in the country, but the Wolstenholme’s wouldn’t hear it.

“No, we’ve just got him back. He will be treated at home,” Mister Wolstenholme had said.

Dominic could understand their reasoning, but Matthew was a proven flight risk, so even if he was at home, he would need constant supervision all day, and he doubted Matthew would take kindly to that, or to being locked in his room overnight. He walked back to Matthew’s room, but the door was still shut, and he could hear the soft murmur of voices. So, he sat and waited and wondered what they were saying.

**************************

Jamie had been so happy to see Mattie, even if one of his legs had been turned into crazy paving, and the other looked like Frankenstein had stitched it. Then Mattie had dropped a very scary bomb; that he heard voices. He’d seen the fear on Mattie’s face, had he expected him to do a runner? Well, that weren’t going to happen, and he told him so.

“Mate, half the people on the street hear voices. Difference is, you got me an’ the gang. If you get away from them, we can get you drugs, if you want em’, an I mean the stuff the doctors give out.”

He could see that Mattie still looked afraid. “I’d never abandon you, you got me away from Donnie, and kept me away from the real bastards out there. The gang won’t either, you keep the pervs away from the young uns’.”

The door opening and the nurse entering put an end to the conversation, as he had to leave because she had to check his dressing. He’d grimaced when Mattie had shown him the leg that had been practically skinned. He sat by the door, ignoring Dominic. He was the enemy…sort of. Sure, he’d found Mattie and for that he’d be forever grateful. But he’d also hurt Mattie, as he’d found out one weed and booze-soaked evening, and for that he could never really like the bloke.

He also took an instant dislike to the rent-a-cooper Tom Kirk. He hadn’t appreciated being grilled, and it seemed Mattie felt the same, going by his face when he’d mentioned it.

The nurse came out and said that Mattie needed his dressings changed, so visiting was finished for the day. He must have looked disappointed, because the nurse said he could ring him later. Dominic said he would give him Mattie’s number…. yeah right, like he was going to call that number. He would ring the phone he’d smuggled in instead. He let Dominic drop him off and he made his way back to the house the gang used…. time to get ready for when Mattie came back.

*******************

The prison door shut behind him, he was glad to be free of it. He was supposed to report to his parole officer and to his local police station; he was on that list. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. He could go to an address that no-one knew belonged to him. Then he had some catching up to do and a certain special someone to bring back into his sick little world…oh, he would be an adult now, but once something was his, it stayed his…and this little bird was definitely his.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this beginning of a path to healing....

“Just remember, bad leg first, and use the hand-rails to help pull you up,” the physio said.

Matthew gave him a “I’m not stupid’ glare, which he ignored.

“I’ll be right behind you, okay.”

Matthew let out a huff of air, then approached the first stair. He began reciting the mantra ‘bad leg, good leg’ and began climbing.

“Well done,” the physio said as he cautiously descended the stairs. “You’re getting better, you’re putting more weight on it now. Just remember to have both sets of sticks to hand. Next week we’ll start walking exercises without that boot.|”

That made him happy, he’d be nearer escaping.

“Right, into the gym.”

He let out a groan, “Bloody sadist,” he muttered.

“More pain, less time you’ll have to spend with me,” the physio smiled, and pointed to the pool house.

An hour later, the physio was gone and there was no-one in the house but himself and the ever present human guard-dog. He growled that he wanted some privacy and shut himself in the library/music room. He looked longingly at the piano, but shook his head; this wasn’t his life anymore.

Then he smiled and pulled a couple of books from a shelf. Kirk hadn’t found his latest hiding place…yet. He’d learnt a lot from Donnie and Aziz, and he’d gotten very good at the game of hide and not seek. He removed his small stash of weed and a lighter; this was his way of saying ‘screw you, Kirk’. They had yet to catch his gang coming over the wall, the kids that did it were very good at what they did; that and the fact that he knew all the CCTV blind-spots.

He retreated to his favorite spot, where he could see the gates, and he knew they would see him smoking. He was just finishing his second joint, when the gates opened, so he waited to take his last drag until someone stepped out of the car.

The next hour was full of raised voices; at him, at the guard-dog…goal achieved. He was locked in his bedroom, of course, but it had been worth it. He’d been locked up for about an hour, when he heard the door being unlocked. He refused to look at whoever entered, and even turned his back to the door.

He heard the person sigh, then they spoke...Dominic.

“We’ve found your hidey-hole, and Tom will catch your delivery boys.”

He wasn’t going to reply, but he couldn’t help letting out a derisory snort.

“You don’t think so? He’s thinking about putting razor-wire up.”

Matthew tensed, and this time he did speak.

“That’s illegal.”

“So is supplying weed and trespassing. That and using minors to do it.”

He didn’t reply and when Dominic moved to face him, he stared at him defiantly. He guessed he’d won this round…well, most of it.

Then his carefully constructed world of ‘See if I care’ collapsed.

*************************

Dominic let out a sigh, their short conversation hadn’t exactly been productive. But he wasn’t about to give up, and what he was about to do was going to be painful.

“Do you hate us that much?”

That seemed to surprise Matthew.

“What?”

“Do you hate us that much?”

“I... what?”

“You must do, if you think going back out there is better than being with people who love you.”

He saw Matthew’s expression go from surprise to anger; then he spat.

“I have people who love me, just not you!”

“Of course, you do. But, then again, you don’t have a clue what love is, do you?”

“I’m not fucking stupid. I know what love is.”  
“Really? Is it love when they smack you around? Is it love when they buy you a line of coke, then fuck you senseless and kick you out on the street?”

Dominic knew he was being cruel, but he had to make Matthew see.

“Was it love when you were brought like a prize animal? Was it love that dragged you into their sordid little world?”

He saw a flicker of something, then it hit him.

“That’s why you were on the street. Whoever you were with didn’t want you anymore.”

“Stop it,” Matthew hissed.

“Or is love a family taking on a traumatized ten-year-old, that was so fucked up, he didn’t know love from pain and hurt?”

“Please…stop,” Matthew said, hurt evident in his voice now.

“Or is love spending night after night combing the streets looking for someone who’s going to hate you, when you find them?”

Dominic could see it, the beginning of tears…may god forgive him, he pressed even further.

“Or is love someone sitting in a dirty wet alleyway, with someone who’s bleeding to death. Then praying that they survive the surgery and the night.”

Tears finally started to fall.

“P-please s-stop.”

Dominic hated this, knowing how fragile Matthew really was, underneath the bluff. He’d had a long talk with Morgan and the family, and it had already been decided that something had to be done. It was supposed to have been an intervention in a safe and controlled environment. But this latest incident with the smuggled weed, had ruined that, and the fact that Matthew was healing quickly, and it would be long before they were into the game of trying to keep him from disappearing again.

“Matthew, love isn’t drugs or violence, and it’s not what those men did and do to you. None of that is love.”

Matthew was trembling now, and he wanted to grab him and pull him into his arm; but he couldn’t. Matthew had to make the first move. So, he kept going.

“Love is standing on that bloody freezing sea-front because someone wanted to the see the light show one more time. Love is not complaining when cold hands use your back as a hot water bottle.”

He stopped then, before his own tears started, to match the one now falling freely from Matthew.

Matthew shifted, then shuffled forward and launched himself at him, causing him to panic slightly, before he instinctively wrapped his arms around him…god, it felt good.

“I d-don’t h-hate you,” Matthew sobbed into his shoulder.

“I know, I know.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

He held Matthew tighter. His heart skipped a beat, this was the real Matthew, he could feel it.  
“I’m s-sorry,” Matthew said again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“M’tired, Dominic.”

Dominic guessed he must be coming down, “You want to sleep, yeah? C’mon then, let’s get that boot off, so you can lie down.”

He carefully removed the boot and helped Matthew lay down, then covered him with a throw.

Matthew sighed and he thought he heard a murmured ‘love you’ before Matthew’s eyes closed. He brushed a stray lock of hair from his face.

“Oh love, I hope this is the end of all the crap you’ve had to endure, and we...I can have our Matthew back.”


	24. Chapter 24

It had been ridiculously easy to find out where his little bird lived. It was as simple as typing a name into the electoral roll; his little bird had never told him his address, or his name, but at least his name was on his school books, and he would never have picked him up outside his address, he would never risk that. Of course, he wanted to see how his little bird had grown, but that was going to be difficult, he couldn’t just walk up to the door.

He had been watching the house for a few days, before he finally saw him...oh, his little bird had changed, but he would know those cheekbones. He had grown into a beautiful young man, and he had found that since his incarceration, his tastes had changed. It had not been out of choice, but no-one would look twice at someone over the legal age being attached to an older man; his other ‘tastes’ would have to wait.

He had to have his little bird, and he was certain if he could get him alone, he could once again gain control of him…after all, little Matty had always been so submissive.

**************

Matthew woke with as start, and a killer headache, maybe that third spliff had been a mistake. His brain was a little fuzzy, but he was certain something had happened; no doubt it would come to him. He sat up and winced, as his leg joined his head in the pain department. He carefully swung his legs and strapped on his boot. As he tightened the last buckle, it came to him……oh.

Dominic had said some hurtful things, but there was a truth in them that he’d refused to hear or acknowledge. They had caused a chink in his once tight-knit armor, and once it had, it began to unravel. Then all the feelings he’d been keeping behind it were set free, and the one thing he’d been denying for so long flooded in.

He loved Dominic, always had, through all the brutality of Donnie James, and the insanity fueled life with Aziz. None of that had been love, it was just a twisted version, one he’d had since he was old enough to comprehend. He felt the threat of tears, but forced them back; he had things to make right, and tears would not help.

He was surprised that the door was unlocked, but he went with it. It took him a little while to get downstairs, then a little time to locate someone. He heard vices coming from the kitchen, then the smell of cooking...now he was seriously hungry. He hesitated by the kitchen door; it sounded like the whole family was in there.

“C’mon, you coward, how hard can it be?”

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

*********************  
Dominic had stepped out of the kitchen when Matthew started to stammer out his apologies. He shook his head in disbelief, he didn’t think it would go beyond their partial reconciliation, and he was not going to give into the hope that Matthew still wanted to be with him; despite that murmured ‘love you.’

When he finally re-entered, Matthew seemed relaxed, if still a little reserved. But he smiled at Dominic when he sat down next to him.

“You okay?”

“Think so, they seem happy.”

“Of course they are, you’re back.”

“But I’ve been a bastard.”

“You’re family, Matthew, and family forgives.”

Before Matthew could speak again, it was time to eat, and the conversation turned to less heavy things. The evening went quickly and Matthew’s re-bonding with the Wolstenholme’s continued. When he said he was tired and wanted to go to bed, Dominic followed him, until they stopped outside his bedroom.

“Honestly, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just really tired.”

“I don’t mean physically.”

Matthew blinked and then suddenly leant forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“I will be.”

Before he could react, Matthew was already inside his bedroom and the door closed. He touched his cheek; Matthew had kissed him. It was unexpected and left him with a warm feeling, and he took that feeling to bed.

*********************

Matthew couldn’t believe he had just kissed Dominic. It had been a spur of the moment thing, but he didn’t regret it. It felt right, just like it had the first time they had kissed. Okay, it wasn’t a passionate one, like their first one, but it had let Dominic know that he would be okay…eventually.

As he slipped into bed, his thoughts turned to other things. He had been intending to disappear as soon as he could, but now. He sighed, now he was not so sure. He wanted to stay, but he had Jamie and the rest of the gang to think of. Perhaps he could get them settled in another city, then come back.

Yes, that was what he would do. It wouldn’t be long before he would be losing the boot and then his sticks. Then he would leave and see to his boys, but this time he would leave a message, so they wouldn’t worry about him. He knew it would hurt, but he could rebuild any bridges when he came back, and he knew the exact time and place he would do it.

He texted Jamie on the phone they didn’t know he had, giving him instructions on what to do.

That day soon came around, and he sat in the waiting area of the plastic surgeon’s clinic. He glanced over at Christopher, who looked bored.

“Hey,” he said. “Why don’t you go and get a coffee or something. They’re running way late.|”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, give me my phone and I can text you when I’m done.”

“Okay,” Christopher said and handed him the phone they allowed him to have.

His stomach fluttered with nerves as he counted down the minutes, until he was sure that Christopher was too far away. He left the waiting area, took the stairs and left the hospital. He caught the next bus, just to the first stop, to give himself some distance, before sending that text.

His thumb hovered over the send, hesitating. He didn’t want to cause the hurt he knew he was going to inflict, but had to look after his other family. He pressed send, then waited for the bus that he did want.

He frowned as he approached the house; the gang should have been waiting outside. He walked into the house.

“Oi, you lot, get your lazy arses down here!”

When there were no answering expletives, his annoyance turned to concern.

“Jamie…boys?”

Then a voice that brought fourteen-year-old Matthew screaming to the fore said.

“I’m afraid your little fledglings have flown away. Except for this little one.”


	25. Chapter 25

Dominic was in a meeting when his phone vibrated. He ignored it, it was probably just spam. A few minutes later it went off again, and this time he turned it off. After another two or three minutes, the boardroom phone rang, and that he couldn’t ignore.

“I said not to forward any calls.”

“I’m sorry sir, but he was most insistent.”

“Who is it?”

“A Christopher Wolstenholme.”

His pulse began to quicken, was something wrong? Matthew was at the hospital today.

“Would you excuse me for five minutes,” he said to his fellow attendees, and they filed out.

“Fucking hell, Howard. Do you ever look at or answer your bloody phone!?”

“Is something wrong, Chris?”

“If you looked at your bloody phone, you’d know. It’s Matty.”

Dominic turned on his phone; there was one text message. He opened it and began reading and his stomach fell.

**Everybody, I know this will hurt, and I’m sorry for that. But I have to look after my other family. I haven’t gone for good, truly I haven’t. I will be back. Please don’t worry, I’ll be safe. Matty**

*************************

_“Quiet now, little one. You will make no noise until I tell you to. You do and I will have to punish you. Do you understand?”_

_He nodded, his eyes wide with fear._

_“That’s a good boy. Now, I think after last time, you need something to help you be a more willing participant.”_

Matthew couldn’t stop his face betraying his memory.

“Ah, you haven’t forgotten me. I think it’s time you and I got reacquainted. But first, we need to deal with this little bird.”

He heard the words through a haze of fear, and the shock of seeing him, one arm wrapped around Jamie’s neck.

“Close the door and come here.”

Oh god, he found himself doing it; those years of forced obedience had never been truly exorcised.

“As much as I would like to sample this little morsel, I only have one pair of hands.”

The man reached into a pocket with his free hand and produced a pair of handcuffs. “Handcuff one of your hands to the bannister and put the other cuff on your wrist.”

He hesitated, then Jamie let out a choking gasp.

“I won’t ask again.”

With shaking hands, he took the cuffs, and attached one of the cuffs to a balustrade, and the other to his wrist; the click deafening in the silence.

“I won’t be long, do stay quiet,” the man said and began dragging Jamie into the kitchen.

The last thing he saw was Jamie’s eyes, they were saying ‘it’s not your fault.’ He didn’t want to be quiet, his other ‘self’ was screaming to be let out, baying for the ‘bastards blood’. But his fourteen-year old self was in charge. And it was ‘Matty’ that began to cry when he heard noises coming from the kitchen. It was ‘Matty’ that let out a sob when the man returned, and there were spots of blood on his clothes.

“Stop crying,” the man said, as he unlocked the cuffs.

He was pulled out of the house and onto the back seat of a car.

“Stay down!” the man barked. He did as he was told, but he kept crying, but they were silent tears. Jamie was probably dead and he hoped he soon would be.

*****************

“No, he wouldn’t…not after.”

“He has, he walked straight out of the hospital.”

“You weren’t with him?”

“He played me, Dom. He played us all…why?”

“Questions can wait, we need to find him.”

“Tom’s already on it, and thank god for his distrusting soul. He didn’t just put a tracker in Matty’s phone. He’s with the police right now.”

“But they won’t do anything for seventy-two hours.”

“They are, because we reported him a missing vulnerable person. Sorry Dom, we had to.”

“Are you with the police?”

“No, we’re at home, just in case he does come back. But Dom, Dad’s had enough. He wants him to go back with Morgan.”

Dominic sighed, it was inevitable, because sooner or later, Matthew would have had a psychotic break or his other personalities would have reappeared.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He’d just settled into the taxi, when his phone rang. It said caller unknown…could it be Matthew?

But the person that spoke wasn’t Matthew, it sounded like Jamie, and he sounded like he was in pain.

“He…Matty…oh god.”

“Jamie? What’s happened, are you hurt?”

“He…”

The ragged breath told Dominic that he was hurt. “Where are you…is Matthew okay?”

“Dunno…. fuck, I’m bleeding.”

“Jamie, where are you?” he repeated, hoping Jamie couldn’t hear the panic in his voice.

“House.”

“Where?”

“Number twenty-five.”

“That’s good, but where, so I can send an ambulance.”

“S’alright…. Matty.”

“Yes, Matty. What road, Jamie, so they can, I can get there.”

There was a long pause, with only Jamie’s ragged breathing. When the answer came, it was so quiet, that he had to strain to hear it. The next words spoken were clearer, and they made Dominic’s heart twist with fear.

“H-he said he was…Dominic…. he’s going to do things.”

There was silence again, and this time there was no answer to him calling his name. With a racing heart he thumped the glass partition, which made the taxi driver stop.

"Please, I need to borrow your phone...I need to dial 999."

 “Ambulance and police….no…I don’t know…I think so…no, he rang me on his mobile. Please, he said he’s bleeding.”

"Is he still on the phone."

"I don't know."

"Do you know where he's calling from?"

"Yes, it's twenty five Gamlen Road...I'm in a taxi...please hurry....I think...I think he might be dying."


	26. Chapter 26

His muscle twitched when knuckles were run down a cheekbone and along the jaw.

“You have become quite exquisite, Matty, but not as fragile as you were. That means you won’t damage so easily.”

Finally, what he started to call ‘badass Matthew’ broke through the hold that ‘scared little rabbit Matty’ had.

“Are you sure you can still get it up, old man?” he snarled.

The man didn’t seem fazed by his taunt.

“So, you’ve finally grown claws.”

“Put your dick anywhere near my mouth, you’ll find out what else I’ve got.”

The man looked amused, then moved closer and pulled him to his feet, using the arm that wasn’t handcuffed to the radiator.

“Seems I’m going to have to teach you how to be submissive again.”

“Try it,” he snapped back.

The man smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile.

**********************

Dominic was torn, he wanted to go to the Wolstenholme house and wait for news, but he also wanted to go to the house where Jamie could possibly be dying. But, there really wasn’t a choice, so he told the taxi-driver to go to Jamie’s. The taxi arrived just an ambulance and a police car pulled up. He desperately wanted to be the first in, but he was stopped by one of the officers, and had to answer a barrage of questions. He could hear the murmur of the paramedics and the other officer, then the sound of the heart monitor; the steady beeping telling him that at least Jamie was alive.

The other officer came out, he was carrying two jackets, one bloody and the other torn. He recognized the torn jacket; it was Matthew’s, and the officer must have come to the same conclusion.

“There was someone else in the house, we might have a second victim.”

*********************

“It could have been worse, at least they’re keeping it out of the press.”

“Been worse, that poor kid is fighting for his life, and Matty’s missing, possibly hurt or in the hands of some knife-wielding nutter!” Christopher yelled.

“I want to know what Matthew was doing at that house? The police say it’s full of stolen goods and drugs,” Mister Wolstenholme said.

They all turned at looked at Dominic, who wished he could disappear. “Dominic, does Matthew know that young man?” Dominic nodded, “Matthew and Jamie, the both used to work for Donnie James. Jamie was what they call a party-boy, and Matthew, well you know what Matthew was. I think Matthew was staying there, and please don’t be angry, but I think he was part of a gang.”

Christopher looked unhappy, Mrs. Wolstenholme looked upset, and Mister Wolstenholme looked disappointed. The phone ringing broke the moment, and it was few minutes before Mister Wolstenholme put the phone down and spoke.

“That was Thomas, the tracker has stopped moving. They can’t pinpoint exactly where he is, so the police are going to do a door to door. It’s a big area, so Tom is going to take his own men and help

“Where?” Dominic and Christopher said together.

*******************

_“You shouldn’t have run his mouth.”_

_“Right, be a whiny bitch instead. It weren’t me anyways, he finally grew a pair.”_

_“An now he’s hurt, we’re hurt.”_

He would normally ignore the voices, but now they were a distraction. He shifted on the mattress he was sitting on, and winced. His shoulder and arm were already hurting from being handcuffed to a radiator. Now he could feel his ribs and back start to tighten; being kicked repeatedly did that. He hoped that none of his ribs were broken, but his kidneys felt bruised. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to tell the man to fuck off, then try to bite him, as he threatened he would do; there was no way he was going to let him, not while he was conscious and corpus mentis.

The man had left after punishing him, left him without water or food. He’d left him handcuffed to the radiator, which was cold against his back, and the mattress was so thin, it might as well have been the floor of the basement he was locked in. He hoped that ‘he’ wasn’t coming back for a while, just to give his ribs and back chance to recover.

He sighed, winced again, as he shifted in the vain effort of finding a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come, all he saw was Jamie’s fear-filled eyes, and the blood on the man’s clothes……oh god, was Jamie dead, beaten to death like so many other poor sods? Those sounds had been horrible. He let out a sob, that echoed round the darkened basement, until he fell into a tear induced sleep.

He was woken by a foot in his still painful ribs.

He blinked at the now light-filled basement.

“Wake up, no sleep till you learn your lessons.”

He couldn’t stop the whimper escaping as he was uncuffed and hauled up by his bad arm.

“Shut up!” the man snapped and back-handed him.

He bit back a yelp, when pain flared again.

“Finally, you’re learning.”

He never made a noise, not when he was dragged out of the basement and up to his bedroom, not until the man had finished and shoved him to the floor, before leaving to ‘clean up’; he really didn’t care. He managed to get to his knees and looked round the bedroom, his eyes dulled by the effort of coping with what had just happened.

Tears tracked unfettered as he realized he was now truly alone…. the voices had said nothing during the rape, their silence another damnation. Jamie was probably dead, and no-one knew where he was. It was just himself…. Matthew. Then his eyes alighted on several objects, and a singular thought rose, the same thought he’d had in another house…. yes, he would do that; it was fitting that it would be that.

But first there was something else he had to do. He wasn’t sure why the man had left his phone, perhaps he was coming back. It was unlocked and with a trembling hand he dialled a number.

“Hello?” 

”Jus’ wanna say, it’s not your fault.”

“Matthew?”

“It’s poetic really, but it’s kinda right…tell them not to be upset, okay.”

He put the phone down, ignoring the voice calling his name. He reached for the other object and because he didn’t have the strength to stand, he crawled out of the bedroom, then watched with emotionless eyes as his final act in this life came to life; then he laid down and waited, like he had done all those years ago.


	27. Chapter 27

Dominic stood back whilst Christopher talked to Tom, and the officer in charge. It seemed they were waiting for a call from ‘higher-up’. He was stamping his feet to keep them warm, and he hoped that Matthew wasn’t in the hands of a violent person. He hoped they would find him somewhere warm and safe; it was a slim hope, but he would cling to it.

His phone rang, and this time he didn’t delay in answering it.

“Hello.”

This time, it was voice he did recognize.

“Jus’ wanna say, it’s not your fault.”

“Matthew?”

He didn’t like the words that were spoken, nor the tone they were spoken in.

“Matthew?”

“It’s poetic really, but kinda right…. tell them not to be upset.”

Oh god…Matthew was saying goodbye, and not in a ‘I’ll be back’ way…no!

“Matthew!”

But there was no reply, but the phone was still connected. He strained to hear anything, something.

“Matthew!” he yelled, this time catching the attention of the others.

“Matthew, don’t. whatever your thinking of doing, don’t, please. Where are you, the police, me, and Christopher are coming…please, where are you!?”

Tom was over in an instant.

“Give me the phone, we can trace the call.”  
He didn’t give Dominic a chance to argue, he just snatched the phone and was away, back towards the police.

Christopher appeared next to Dominic.

“What did he say? Is Matthew okay?”

Dominic shook his head, “He…oh god…I think…oh god…he’s going to kill himself.”

Christopher paled, then Tom was shouting, but his shout was over written by the sound of a fire engine, and somehow Dominic knew what Matthew was doing.

********************

It was an odd and cruel coincidence, that he was in the same position he’d been in when he was ten. But this time, he prayed to a god he really didn’t believe in, that there would be no-one to rescue him. He lifted his head when he heard him, and he could see the fire had spread.

Escape that, if you fucking can.

Then his thoughts started to become less clear, as the smoke thickened, and his oxygen-starved lungs cried out in protest. His chest hurt as he drew breath, and there was the beginning of a dark tinge at the edge of his vision; death was reaching out with its cold fingers.

Please let him die before I do.

As his vision faded, his hearing sharpened, so he could hear him. Somehow, he forced enough air into his lungs to yell.

“Burn you bastard!”

There was not one shred of guilt or remorse behind the words, only the wish that he could have watched him burn. Now his hearing was starting fade, the smoke choking his lungs, depriving his brain of oxygen. His oxygen-starved mind began to hallucinate, and he saw his parents and his baby brother; it would be good to be with them again.

He was so lost in the happy thought, that he never heard the sirens, or the door breaking and the shouts of the firefighters.

****************  
Dominic scrambled out of Tom’s car, following Chris, but his eyes were on the scene up ahead.

Behind police tape a large house was ablaze, and on the road in front a group of paramedics and an emergency response doctor were huddled around someone on the floor…please let it be Matthew…. please let him be okay.

Then he heard Christopher shouting and trying to get through the tape.

“That’s my brother, you bastards, let me through!”

He saw Tom speaking to an officer, who then moved away and towards the paramedics. Then Christopher was ducking under the tape and Tom was walking back to him.

“Chris is going to A&E with him. C’mon Dom. I have to pick up his parents, they’re waiting.”

The Wolstenholme’s were already waititng outside the gates when they drew up.

“Thomas, swing by my solicitor’s offices, he’s waiting for us. No-one apart from medical staff are going anywhere near Matthew without me or him being present.”

Then he looked at Dominic, “Now, Dominic, you will tell me what has being going on with my son.”

***********************

His chest felt like it had a huge weight pressing on it. He took a breath…wait, the dead don’t need to breathe? He took another breath, it sounded like distant fire-crackers. He let out a cough, it sounded fluid-filled.

So, he was still alive…. god, why wasn’t he allowed to die?

He took another breath, and this time he felt something pressing against his face, a mask. Sod this, he thought, they are not saving me. He went to remove it, but he couldn’t move his arm. He tried moving the other, with the same result.

“They had to restrain you, you kept trying to take the nebulizer off, then tried to get up.”

He turned his head towards the voice, then looked away, when he saw who it was.

“Ignoring me won’t make me go away.”

He heard the scrape of a chair and footsteps, and he came into view again.

“Seems we’re here again. Only this time you tried flames.”

He wished he could tell him to sod-off, but the mask and the rawness he felt in throat stopped him. So, he settled for staring past his shoulder.

“Did you want to die that badly? What did he...yes, he’s dead. What did he do?”

He felt the laugh bubbling up, and he let it escape. It hurts his chest and lungs, but he didn’t care…. he was dead, the bastard was dead.

His laugh descended into a cough, the he found he couldn’t breathe. He felt hands on him and heard voices telling him to take deep breaths His vision started to fade, then he lost consciousness.


	28. Chapter 28

Dominic was taking his turn to sit with Matthew. They were still in Resuss, whilst they tried to stabilize Matthew and clear his lungs. He was still reeling from the news that a body had been found in the house, and they had found evidence that the man had been known to the police; he’d been a convicted pedophile and sexual predator.

In that case, he could not blame Matthew, if he had started the fire. He sighed and blinked sleep away. He knew that in one of the offices, an argument was going on between Mister Wolstenholme, his solicitor, and the police, about their failure to find and arrest the man, who hadn’t once reported to his assigned station.

No doubt there were threats of suing, because now, one young man was seriously injured, and god knows what they would find when Matthew was stable enough, aside from the broken ribs and badly bruised kidneys.

Matthew had finally settled into sleep, after the struggle to keep him from removing the nebulizer, and trying to leave. The restraints were unfortunately needed to stop him from injuring himself further. A rattling cough brought his attention back to Matthew; it was not the first time he’d heard the fluid filled sound.

According to the doctors, he’d been lucky to have only suffered from smoke inhalation, although what damage had been done to his lungs, or god forbid his brain, was yet to be determined. Matthew let out another cough, but this time he started to and failed to lift his hand…he was awake.

He could see the confusion on his face.

“They had to restrain you, you kept trying to remove the nebulizer and leave.”

He wasn’t surprised when Matthew looked his way, then looked away.

“Ignoring me won’t make me go away.”

He stood and moved to the other side of the bed, but Matthew stared past him.

“Seems we’re here again, only this time you tried flames. What did he do to you, that you wanted to die?”

He saw Matthew’s eyes widen slightly.

“Yes, we know there was someone else there, and we know who and what he was….and yes, he’s dead.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction that statement would get. The laugh, when it started was a surprise, then worry when he thought he heard a tinge of insanity…. then panic when it turned into the inability to breathe.

He was pushed aside by nurses, then relegated to the family waiting room, with the Wolstenholme’s, to wait. Finally, one of the A&E registrars appeared, Matthew was being moved to the Thoracic ward, where he would be monitored more closely. He suggested that they go home, as it would take some time to settle Matthew.

So, it was tired and shocked party that entered the house. Tomorrow was going to be another long and stressful day.

Dominic had no doubt that the police would be at the hospital, but they certainly wouldn’t be talking to Jamie for a while, and wasn’t it a coincidence that Matthew ended up in the same hospital. But they would be able to talk to Matthew, but not quite yet.

He prayed that Matthew hadn’t witnessed the brutal and violent attack on Jamie. Was that the thing that had pushed Matthew into…no, he had the horrible feeling that something just as awful had happened, and now they knew that Jamie’s attacker had been a sex offender, he could guess what.

He jumped when a mug appeared in front of him. He looked up to see Tom, who looked as tired as he felt. He sat for a minute, debating as to whether he should ask the question that had to be asked.

“Tom, do you think Matthew set fire to the house?”

Tom didn’t answer straight away, but when he did answer, he didn’t like it.

“I think, if pushed, Matthew could and probably would. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what happened. I think that and what happened to Jamie, pushed him over the edge.”

“But murder, Tom.”

“Do you really think it was murder? I got a look at that bloke’s record. Let’s just say, there won’t be many, if anyone missing him.”

“But Matthew could go to prison.”

“I doubt it would get past the CPS.”

“Why?”

“Because, as that very expensive solicitor the Wolstenholme’s pay, will say, that a convicted pedophile and sexual predator assaulted and stabbed a sixteen-year-old, then abducted and tried to, or had raped according to his psychiatrist, a vulnerable adult, who tried to defend himself.”

Dominic was surprised at Tom, since there was no love lost between him and Matthew. His surprise must have shown, because Tom said.

“Just because me and the kid don’t get on, doesn’t mean I hate him. The kid’s gutsy, he’s had a lot of shit thrown at him, and survived. I respect that. Well, I’m turning in.”

“Yeah,” Dominic said. Not that any of them would get any sleep.

*******************

Matthew slowly pulled himself from the dark he’d fallen into. It took a few minutes for his memory to catch up with his brain. Then he tensed, expecting to find his movement restricted…no, his arms were free, and the nebulizer had been replaced by a less irritating nasal tube. His throat felt raw and his mouth was like sand. He tried to sit up, to see if there was some water. His ribs and kidneys reminded him that there were cracked and bruised. He let out a hiss, which drew the attention of a nurse that was attending to another patient.

She called to the nurse at the station.

“No, Matthew, lie back…here,” she said and handed him a glass.

“Are you having any pain?”

He was in too much pain to lie; that and he had no intention of staying, and it would be a lot easier, if he wasn’t in pain.

He needed to get out and begin looking for the rest of the gang; they were probably scattered all over London. The younger ones would be at the mercy of perverts and traffickers. But first, he had to know if Jamie was.

He nodded in answer to her question.

“I’ll get you some pain relief.”

She was about to turn away, when said in a hoarse voice.

“Nurse, I have a friend, He was hurt too, I think he’s here.”

The nurse frowned, then, “Oh, the nurse that brought you up from A&E said something about it. Jamie, isn’t it?”

He nodded, his heart racing, fearing her next words.

“Yes, he’s here. He’s in critical care. I can find out how he’s doing, if you like?”

“Please…thank you.”

The nurse patted his arm, “I’ll get that pain relief.”

When she was gone, he smiled. Jamie was alive. Once he was relatively pain free, he would go and see for himself. Then he would leave, and disappear once more onto the streets.


	29. Chapter 29

“Mister Wolstenholme, we do need to speak to your son.”

“No, he’s not well enough.”

“With respect sir, Matthew is an adult. You can’t refuse to let us question him.”

“I am well aware that Matthew is an adult. But I am sure you are well aware that my son is classed as a vulnerable adult. I will not allow him to be subjected to the pressure of a formal interview.”

“We understand. Perhaps yourself and Matthew will agree to an informal interview.”

Mister Wolstenholme sat back, then looked at his solicitor.

“Can you give us a minute?”

He waited until the door was closed, “What do you think, Charles?”

“Honestly, it would be better to take the offer of an informal interview. He will have to speak to the eventually, and I’d rather it be one we have complete control over. I really don’t want to think of what would happen if they just turned up and tried to arrest him.”

“And you think it will be any easier to persuade him to willingly walk into a police station?”

“George, like it or not, he does have question to answer. Agree to the informal interview.”

“Matthew isn’t going to agree.”

“Then ask him would he prefer to be arrested and spend a night in the cells. The police aren’t going to wait forever. Persuade him, George, then bring him to talk to me.”

Mister Wolstenholme sighed, “Alright, as if I didn’t have enough bad news to tell him.”

*******************

Dominic frowned as pulled up to the house and saw Christopher sitting outside. 

“I’d stay out here, if I was you,” he said as Dominic approached.

“Why?”

“Dad’s trying to get him to speak to the police. They’ve been arguing for over an hour.”

“The police want to question him?”

Christopher shrugged his shoulders, “Not sure what they want. Dad says they haven’t directly said they think he started the fire. Maybe they want to talk about Jamie, but I’m just guessing.”

“I take it Matthew’s not having any of it?”

Christopher shook his head, “You know how much he hates the police. He’s never going to willingly step foot inside a station.”

The muffled sound of footsteps, followed by a door slamming, made them look at the door. A few moments later it opened, and Mister Wolstenholme stepped out.

“Christopher, would you bring the town car around to the front. Myself and Matthew will be going to see our solicitor within the hour.”

“Why do you need to see him?”

“Matthew has been persuaded to talk to the police.”

“Didn’t sound like it.”

“He’d been made aware that his choices are limited. He was just expressing his displeasure. Dominic, nice to see you, please come in. May I speak with you in private?”

He followed Mister Wolstenholme into his study.

“Dominic, you’ve been visiting that young man Jamie, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“How is he doing?”

“Improving, they’re thinking about waking him up.”

“And in that time, I take it no family or friends have come forward?”

“No…seems there’s only Matthew who cares enough.”

“Ah, about that. I received a rather unhappy call yesterday. Because Jamie is only just sixteen, Social Services have taken over his case. They not allowing Matthew to visit him.”

“Why?”

“The exact words the Supervisor said were ‘Matthew’s criminal record and recent behavior means he’s a negative influence on a minor.”

“That’s unfair.”

“True, but we have more pressing issues. The police interview.”

“Matthew won’t cope with the pressure of it.”

“Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice. That is why I would like you to be present when they interview him.”

“What?”

“I will not let him be questioned without legal or psychological support, and I would rather it be someone I can trust. You Dominic are more than qualified, that and you know Matthew as well as, if not better than any of us. You don’t have to, I can get Professor Nicholls to recommend someone else.”

“No, I’ll do it. I’ll just go and talk to him.”  
Mister Wolstenholme smiled, “Good luck with that.”

The stairs had never felt so steep, and Matthew’s door had never seemed so large.

“Come on Dominic. The worst he can do, is tell me to piss off.”

He knocked on the door.

“Matthew?”

He was about to knock again, when the door opened, but only enough to reveal those sapphire eyes; it looked like Matthew had been crying.

“What!?” Matthew snapped.

“Can we talk?”

“Why?”

“Because, you need someone to talk to.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I know about Jamie, what Social Services said.”

That earned a closed door.…that went well. He sighed and turned away, but stopped, when a quiet voice said.

“It isn’t fair.”

He turned back, and the door was fully open, a miserable looking Matthew was standing there. He could see that he was expecting him to say something; no doubt expecting him to agree with Mister Wolstenholme and Social Services…but.

“You’re right, it isn’t fair, and I think there’s a way you can get to at least see Jamie. How are your acting skills?”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger for Christmas....possibly?

Matthew couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he wasn’t allowed to see Jamie. How could they say he was a ‘negative influence’? He’d looked out for Jamie and many others, his life under Donnie James had brought out his protective side; not one of the ‘party boys’ had to suffer a violent or sadistic guest…at least not on his watch. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d been told not asked, that he had to speak to the police, under the threat that the police could just march in and arrest him, if he didn’t volunteer to speak with them.

He didn’t want to end up yet another cell…so what choice did he have?

He slammed his bedroom door, his way of telling his ‘father’, that he wasn’t happy. He was desperate to see Jamie, desperate to get away, to find the kids he’d taken under his wing, desperate to find somewhere safe for them. He let out an exasperated breath, he couldn’t even use his normal escape route; his legs weren’t up to it.

He felt tears welling, so he slumped dejectedly onto his bed, unsure of what to do. A knock pulled him from his misery.

“Matthew?”

Wonderful…he should ignore him, but he knew he wouldn’t leave until he answered the door. He swiped away his tears, and opened the door, just enough to see.

“What?” he snapped.

“Can we talk?” Dominic said.

Oh god… “Why?”

“Because you need someone to talk to.”

Really?

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I know about Jamie. I know what Social Services said.”

A flash of anger made him slam the door, but it was short-lived, and fuck knows why, he suddenly felt like he needed to talk. How did Dominic do that? He opened the door to see Dominic’s back. He said in a voice much quieter than he expected.

“It isn’t fair?”

Dominic turned, and no doubt he could see that he’d been crying. No doubt, he would agree with his ‘father’ and those heartless bastards at Social Services. But when Dominic did speak, he didn’t say what he expected him to say.

“You’re right, it isn’t fair, and I think I can get you into see Jamie. How good are your acting skills?”

***************

And now…?”

“Oww…fuck?”

“And how long have you been experiencing this pain?”

“Last couple of days.”

“And you’ve been taken your pain medication?”

“Yeah, but they didn’t work. I didn’t want to come, but my friend was worried that something was wrong with the pins.”

“No, he was right to insist you come in. We’ll get an x-ray done, then see if anything is going on. We’ll take some blood, just in case there’s the chance of an infection…I might just book you in for a scan as well. You should use a chair, just in case there has been some movement. Get your friend to wheel you round to Radiology, they’ll call you when they’re ready.”

Dominic pushed the wheelchair straight past X-ray and out into the corridor.

“Critical Care is on the fourth floor…go on, visiting hours are nearly over.”

*********************

Matthew felt a surge of guilt when he saw Jamie. He should have done something, instead of reverting to his frightened younger self. Yes, he had acted, but far too late. Jamie hadn’t deserved that, he shouldn’t have suffered because of his past.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, reaching out, but stopping short of touching.

“He’s going to be okay.”

He started at the nurse’s voice.

“Your friend, he’s going to be okay. I haven’t seen you before.”

“I’m not from London. I came down from Manchester,” …and god, didn’t that lie slip easily from his mouth. “I was going to surprise him, guess I was the one who got surprised. I found his house covered in police tape, and police asking me all sorts of questions. I can’t believe someone would…oh god.”

The nurse put a hand on his shoulder.

“He’s doing really well. He’s becoming more aware every day.”

As if to prove it, Jamie let out a groan. Matthew instinctively moved closer.

“He’s in pain.”

“No, he isn’t,” the nurse replied. “His pain medication is very heavy. It’s a good sign though, it means he’s a lot closer to waking up. Talk to him, a voice he knows will help.”

He waited until she’d moved away before speaking.

“Don’t know if I believe in this ‘they can still hear you stuff’. But, just in case, I’m sorry, cause’ it should be me in this bed. Just so you know…he’s dead, gone to hell.”

He stopped talking, fearing that he would dissolve into tears. He stood and pulled an envelope out of his pocket, and placed it on the table by Jamie’s bed.

“Just read this when you wake up, please don’t be mad at me.”  
As he walked out of the ward, his shoulders fell; the weight of what he had to do becoming heavier. He wasn’t someone who normally changed his mind, but when he saw Jamie, he did. He stopped in what he hoped was a quiet corner, took out his phone and dialed a number he thought he would never ring again.

He found it hard to ignore the questions the person asked.

“If you ever saw me as more than just a pretty thing to own, you’ll do this for me…this one thing. I know can…please.”

He cut the person off, then with a heavy sigh he continued walking, until he saw Dominic.

“Let’s go home, I have things to do.”

**************

Two days later Dominic walked into a police station with Matthew and his solicitor.

The interview started as Dominic expected it would, with questions about how Matthew knew Jamie. He knew that Matthew was omitting things, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Then things became less relaxed as it turned to what had happened in that house, and he could see the tension ratcheting up in Matthew.

The details were unpleasant to hear, and he was sure the words hand-cuffs and blood would make him shiver for a long time. Dear god, he may not have seen the attack, but he had heard it. But when it turned to what had happened afterwards, Matthew clammed up, visibly shaking, and not looking up from the floor.

Dominic put an end to it then, despite the protests…citing that Matthew had come in voluntarily, and that the stress of the interview was not good for his emotional and mental welfare.

They were walking towards the car, when a marked police car and another car pulled up next to them, making them stop.

Two uniformed police and two plainclothes officers alighted from the cars. One of the plain clothes officers took out his ID.

“Detective Inspector Jameson, Interpol. Matthew Bellamy, also known by the name of Hassan, I am arresting you on the suspicion of being involved or being directly responsible for the murder of Donnie James and Alexi Dematrov.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long.

Dominic wasn’t listening to the argument between the solicitor and the detective; he was watching Matthew. At first Matthew had looked as confused as the rest of them. Then, shockingly, he’d seen resignation, but that was almost instantly replaced by fear, when one of the uniformed officers produce a set of hand-cuffs. Then it was replaced by outright panic as the officer took hold of a wrist.  
“No, don’t put those….” Dominic started to say, but he was stopped by the officer telling Matthew to stop moving. Dominic could see him twisting to get out of the officer’s grip, and away from the cuffs. 

This caused the officer to grab his arm instead.

“Don’t put those on him,” he tried to make himself heard, but no-one was listening to him.

“Don’t put those things on me!” Matthew was yelling, still trying to twist away.

Dominic was getting frustrated, and Matthew was getting increasingly frantic, pulling even harder, now that the officer had managed to get one cuff attached.

“For Christ’s sake, take him to the ground and get him cuffed!”

Matthew tried to struggle, but he was no match for the two officers, and he was soon on the ground; he stopped struggling.

Dominic watched Matthew carefully as he was hauled up. He didn’t like how docile he’d become, nor the way he didn’t resist when he was placed in the patrol car.

The detective that had been arguing with the solicitor handed him a card.

“You can contact my superior and arrange legal representation.”

Dominic went to say something, but Tom stopped him.

“Dom, they’re taking him, no matter what we say. We have to get back, Mister Wolstenholme is shouting about calling the Chief Superintendent and I quote ‘the Prime bloody Minister.”

“Tom, you know what’s going to happen when they lock him in a cell…and Interpol, what if they try and deport him.”

“That’s out of our hands, leave it to the legals.”

Dominic could only watch as the cars drove away.

 

*******************************

Matthew sat quietly in the patrol car; the fight drained from him. He knew his past would eventually catch up with him, and it had, in the proverbial ‘spades.’

But as he saw the other police vehicles parked outside, he felt his heart quicken, as he knew what was coming. No, he wasn’t going to lose it. When he stepped up to the custody desk, he had just about managed to steady his heart-rate. He tried his best to answer the question the custody sergeant asked him…yes sir, I have to take prescription medication, what for? I’ve recently had major surgery on my legs following an accident…they have them at home…someone’s bringing them.

He sighed as he watched the cell door close, then sighed again when he felt the adrenaline wearing off, and fatigue take its place. He didn’t want to sleep, sleeping meant dreaming, and he didn’t want to dream.

*******************  
The detective that had been arguing with the solicitor, sat watching Matthew on the monitor.

“He doesn’t look like your average criminal.”

“You have seen his record?”

“Yeah, but being one of Donnie James’ pretty boys will do that.”

“True, but I’m sure there’s more. What I wouldn’t give to see those sealed files.”

“Never going to happen.”

“Make me wonder what they’re hiding. Makes me think that Mister I look so innocent, isn’t.”

“Guess we’ll find out when we question him.”

“His solicitor will keep him quiet.”

“Not if we use the time we have got.”

**********************

Matthew was still blinking the non-sleep out of his eyes, as the two detectives settled. His night had been plagued by dreams and it had left his exhausted and emotionally teetering on the precipice of losing control. He was brought out of his thoughts by one of the detectives speaking.

“Right, to start, do we call you Matthew or Hassan?”

That startled him, and if he’d been clear-headed, he would have answered straight away. But his head was full of cotton-wool, and the vestiges of last night’s dreams.

“S-sorry,” he stammered.

“Do you want to be called Matthew or Hassan?”

Why would he want to be called Hassan? Only Aziz called him that; he wasn’t Hassan anymore.

“Matthew.”

“Okay. Matthew, you know why you’re here?”

“You think I’ve got something to do with some people’s murders.”

“Not some people. You know who they are, don’t you, Matthew?”  
He nodded.

“You have to vocally confirm.”

“Yes.”

“We know you worked for Donnie James. Did you work for Alexi Dematrov as well?”

He didn’t reply, lost in an unpleasant memory.

The detective seemed to take his silence as being un-cooperative.

“Listen, we know you were one of Donnie’s little bed-warmers and more.”

Those words wouldn’t normally bother him, he’d been called worse, but being sleep deprived and dream-frazzled, with his legs starting to ache, it bothered him He didn’t notice himself slipping back into the Matthew that existed under Donnie.

“Is that what they call it now? Is fuck-toy not PC enough?” he snapped.

If that fazed the two detectives, it didn’t show.

“Are you saying you were forced?”

He let out a derisive snort, “You couldn’t really say no to Donnie. But it did have its perks…the clothes, the pretty trinkets, the money, clean drugs…and the power.”

“So, you’re saying you were not a victim?”

“I think the trial said I was, but I was a victim a long time before Donnie. Bet that’s not in your files.”

“So, why does our information say that you’re implicated in Donnie James’s death.”

He leant back, making it look like he was considering his answer.

“I don’t know, jealousy, spite, revenge, take your pick.”

“We have an eye-witness statement that you were with Donnie James and Alexi Dematrov only hours before their remains were found in a burnt-out car.”

“Highly doubt that. I was otherwise occupied, being someone else’s bed-warmer, as you put it.”

“Who?”

“You don’t know…oh, this is interesting. Then I guess its for you to find out and for me to know.”

He said nothing after that, not even a ‘no comment’, and he smiled at the custody officer as he closed the cell door.

************************

“Well that went well.”

“Yeah, mind you, his attitude did a three-sixty. Actually, it wasn’t his attitude, it’s almost like…wasn’t there a note in his file about him being unpredictable.”

“What are you saying? You think he’s got some kind of problem?”

“I don’t know, but perhaps we should get the on-call doctor to have a look at him.”

“You know if he says he’s unfit for questioning, we’re going to have to let him go.”

“We’ll be in the crap anyway for not waiting for his solicitor. Besides, he’s been sent to Headquarters, mental problems or not.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...but there has to be some dark before the light.

“They what?” Dominic said.

“They want to take him to Germany,” Christopher replied.

“But they can’t, he’s not well enough. He’ll fall apart if they try.”

“That’s why dad is currently shouting at some Home Office pencil-pusher. But their going to do something to try and stall them.”

“What are they going to….” He stopped, and a look of horror crossed his face. “No. please don’t tell me they’re going to.”

****************

He wasn’t sure why they had brought him back to the interview room. His solicitor wasn’t here, and he knew they couldn’t question him without him being present. He was even more puzzled at the lack of recording equipment…what was going on?

He sat there and tried not to look at the clock, where were they?

There was a pad and pencil on the table, so out of sheer boredom, he picked up the pencil and began to draw. He didn’t pay any attention to what he was drawing; he seldom did, since it was usually the same thing he drew nowadays.

He looked up when the door opened, and one person walked in. His defenses immediately went up, yet he didn’t look like a detective. He eyed the man with suspicion as he sat down.

“Hello Matthew. That’s an unusual thing to draw.”

Oh, he’d been watching, that was naughty. He replied to the statement with a glare.

“Is that look because you don’t want to be called Matthew, or you don’t want to talk about the drawing?”

Oh wonderful, he’s a shrink…fine, let’s play mind games.

“S’just a drawing.”

“Do you often draw burning buildings, Matty?”

He dropped the pencil and snarled, “Don’t call me that.”

“Okay, then why do you draw it? It’s quite a harsh subject.”

“We don’t all draw rainbows and unicorns.”

“True, but most people would include fire-fighters, or a least a fire engine.”

“Nah, they’d only put it out.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It is for me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I like to watch them burn, after I set them alight.”

He gave the man his brightest grin, before going back to his drawing.

****************

The two detectives looked at each other, then at the psychologist.

“What do you mean we can’t take him out of the country?”

“He needs to be assessed properly, in a secure unit.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“He is not fit to be taken anywhere, nor to be questioned.”

“Just because he draws something weird?”

“It’s not just the drawing, it’s what he said.”

“What did he say?”

“I can’t tell you that.”  
“It’s bullshit. He’s been told by his solicitor to play the crazy card.”

“Think what you like. I’m going to recommend, no insist, that he be transferred to a suitable facility.”

“But he’s a suspect in a double murder.”

“He’s not anything at the moment, not until he’s been assessed. Unless you want his family suing you for holding a mentally unstable person without getting him the correct help.”

The detective knew that had no choice. The suspects family were well connected, and their ears were still ringing from the dressing down for their questioning him with out legal representation. They could only watch as the psychologist entered their superior’s office and arrange for their suspect to slip out of their grasp.

*******************

Dominic had joined Mister Wolstenholme and Christopher, who had Morgan with them; who the psychologist had conveniently recommended to assess Matthew. They were going to take him straight to Morgan’s London clinic; it had been a stipulation of his release from custody.

Dominic was just relieved that he wasn’t going to be taken out of the country. Not that it meant their troubles were over, he had no doubt that Matthew wouldn’t be happy about returning to any clinic, and there was still the murder charge hanging over him.

He jumped when a phone rang, then again when Mister Wolstenholme said.

“What!? Stall them, I don’t care if they have papers. We’re only five minutes away.”

The five minutes seemed to stretch like eternity, and as they pulled up, they saw Matthew getting into a limousine, along with several suited people that screamed ‘high-price’ legals…they were too late, whoever it was had Matthew.

********************

The well-dressed man was slowly losing his patience. How hard was it to trace someone, especially when that someone’s name, age and description was known? He’d been angry at his staff, for not doing their job properly; how hard was it to watch over one person?

Then he’d been worried about the person, and he thought they were long gone, until that phone call. Now he wanted to find that person, wanted to ask them why they had left, and to tell them that he had done as the person asked. But most of all, he wanted to ask the person if they would come back. 

He had lost this person too many times, but this was the first time they had left of their own accord. He thought he would never care for someone that wasn’t related, but this person, this person had enchanted him from the moment he had seen them in the flesh. That person’s spirit and stubbornness, and then loyalty had turned the enchantment to affection.

His phone ringing broke his thoughts.

“Well? Then bring the car round and call my legal team.”

***********************

 

Matthew was disappointed that he hadn’t gotten a reaction from the shrink, and now he’d been told he was going to ‘assessed’. He knew exactly what that meant. He had to somehow get out of here, but escaping from a police cell was something he had never done.

He’d given up thinking of a way to get out, when the answer and the means walked into his cell. He was a little confused as he was told that he’d been released into the care of some un-named benefactor. Not that he cared, it would allow him to slip away, no matter how tight a leash this benefactor held him on.

He knew now where he should be, where he belonged. Knew where he would be safe and allowed to be free, free of medication and supervision; where he’d been happy, if he really thought about it. He could slip back into the role easily enough, and the good out-balanced the bad anyway.

When he saw the limousine, he thought he recognized it. His eyes flicked to the bonnet of the car…oh…oh. He vaguely noticed another car pulling up, but then he was inside the limo…and there he was.

“Hassan,” the man said softly.

“Aziz,” he replied, and let out a breathy sigh, as he let Aziz envelope him in his arms.


	33. Chapter 33

Matthew thought he would never set foot in this place again, walking across the expensive flooring…not barefoot this time.

“Hassan?”

He didn’t respond at first, unused to being called by that name.

“Hassan?”

He did stop then and turned.

“I’m sorry, not used to being called that.”

Aziz smiled.

“No need to apologize. I have some business to attend to, go wait in the kitchen. If you are hungry, the chef can cook you something.”

He nodded, easily slotting back into the role. No doubt Aziz would soon re-introduce him into the ‘business.’

The chef acknowledged him when he walked in, and then began to prepare the meal he requested, scrambled egg with sweet smoked bacon, and according to most people, spoilt by tomato sauce. He sighed…he knew where he belonged, here he was safe, here he would be protected, warm and have a freedom he would not take for granted again. In the morning he would ask Aziz about Jamie and the boys.

He looked up when the door opened, and Aziz entered. The chef took his leave at Aziz’s silent signal. He went to speak, but Aziz put his hand up.

“I don’t need and explanation. What you did was out of revenge and was something I should have done. There is no need for apologies either. You are back, that is all that matters. Now, you should wash away the smell of that police cell…then sleep.”

Matthew slipped into the bed, the feeling of expensive cotton felt good against his shower heated skin.

“Hassan,” Aziz said, and he willingly slipped into Aziz’s arms.

Aziz let out a grunt and shifted slightly.

“Allah, I had forgotten how bony you are. Have you not been eating properly?”

Matthew tensed. How should he answer?

“I was on the street for a while.”

“Ah, yes, your little gang of thieves, who by the way are a handful. Did you deny yourself to feed them?”

“Are they safe?”

“Safe and running their minders ragged.”

“Can I see them?”

“Later, Hassan. The street must have been hard.”

“I survived.”

“No doubt, my little desert cat. So, how are your claws?”

Matthew moved out of Aziz’s arms and dug his nails into his shoulder.

“Let me show you.”

***********************

Dominic sat in silence, still shocked that some stranger had whisked Matthew away. Why hadn’t Interpol put up more of a fight? He wasn’t privy to the conversation between the Wolstenholme’s and their solicitor, but the raised voices told him that it wasn’t good news. He was deeply worried about and for Matthew. Were the people he was with aware of his mental state, and if they were, did they care?

He was distracted by Tom entering the office.

“They still at it?”

“Yeah, what have you been doing?”

“Checking out the plate of that limo.”

“Any luck?”

“Yes and no. The plates are genuine, but they’re registered to an off-shore company.”

“So, no luck.”

“Didn’t say that. That limo had a unique set of wheels and hood ornament. Not many places do that kind of work. My guys are working on it.”

“I’m really worried Tom. I can’t lose him again...I just can’t.”

“Dom, we will get him back. It’s not like they can take him out of the country. He doesn’t have a passport after all.”

“That didn’t stop Bishara. If these people can overrule Interpol, then they can forge a passport and a visa.”

“That’s why I’m going to suggest that they use the vulnerable person angle. Nothing like a vulnerable person on danger from…. well, you get the picture.”

Dominic shook his head, “You can’t.”

“I’m talking about what happened to his family. Never the other stuff.”

“They won’t say yes.”

The door to the solicitor’s office opened and Tom stood.

“We’ll see,” he replied.

“They can’t be serious,” Dominic said when he was told they’d agreed to his plan.

“They’re desperate, just like you. It’s not like the fire isn’t in the public eye, and Matthew’s face was all over the papers and news during Donnie James’ trial. He was a victim, and that will pull at the public’s heartstrings.”

“I just worry about Matthew. How’s he going to react?”  
*******************

Aziz woke and was disorientated for a few moments at the heat of another body…Hassan. He sat up, which didn’t disturb Hassan; they did expend a lot of energy last night. He smiled at the memory, it seemed Hassan had learnt a trick or two. That angered him, that Hassan had been forced to sell himself, just to survive. But now, it would be in the past, and he would never have to sell himself again…nor steal; although, he was sure he could use that talent to good use, but not in the UK. No, it was time to take Hassan far away from anyone who could take him away, it was also time to finish his integration into his increasing business.

The mattress shifting told him that Hassan was waking, that and the felinesque stretch, and sapphire eyes blinking sleepily at him. Allah, he looked so young and innocent, an innocence that had been lost the first time he’d been sullied by a stranger.

Hassan looked so content as they ate breakfast on the patio. He didn’t want to ruin it, but he had questions that needed answers.

“Hassan?”

“Hmm?” Hassan replied, looking away from the squirrel he’d been watching.

“I know breakfast is not the best place for this, but it must be done.”

Hassan suddenly looked less relaxed.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“No. but there are questions that need answers. Why did you run that day at the warehouse?”

Hassan looked down, then said, “I thought I’d failed you, when I couldn’t kill that man.”

“You didn’t fail me, it was never about killing. But why did you run after we were reunited?”

“You drugged me, I thought you were going to give me to someone else.”

Aziz stood and moved round the table and crouched down next to Hassan, placed one hand on a thigh, and used the other to lift his chin, so that they were eye to eye.

“Hassan, my beautiful little desert cat. I would sooner part with a limb, than part with you.”

He smiled when Hassan’s breath hitched, and he could see tears.

*******************

Matthew hadn’t expected to be questioned at breakfast…. then again, he never thought he would be sharing a bed with Aziz again. He still found it hard to adjust to being called Hassan again, but he would get used to it. He’d forgotten how Aziz had felt and how secure he felt in and out of bed.

So, he answered Aziz’s questions truthfully…why lie?  
It had taken his breath away when Aziz had said he would rather be maimed that lose him again. But would he still accept him if he knew about his…illness. He started to build the courage to tell him, but he never got a chance, as one of Aziz’s men interrupted.

“Ah well, business calls. Please finish your breakfast. My stylist will be here at ten to help with your wardrobe.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

“Not yet, you’re safer here. There are those that would try and take you away again.”

He was disappointed, but he understood. He did not want to go back, not when it would mean either being stuck in a loony bin, or being shipped off to Germany, to face a murder charge. He sighed, then the squirrel he’d been watching reappeared, so he fed it the rest of his breakfast.

All in all, he was safer here…so here he would stay. Soon the stylist arrived, and he was busy with colours, materials and styles, and an argument over skinny jeans, which he won. By the time Aziz returned he was tired, but as he sat down to dinner, he realized he was also happy…yes, he would stay.


	34. Chapter 34

Tom Kirk had become very good at lying. As a soldier he had never lied, not until he joined Special Forces. Even then, he never lied to his superiors, and he’d carried that into his civilian life.

Now he was lying to Mister Wolstenholme.

“Nothing?”

“No sir, not one sighting.”

“And the car?”

“No luck there either.”

He knew exactly who owned the limo, and he knew exactly where Matthew was. He couldn’t bring himself to tell the family; it would destroy them. No, he was going to get him back without telling them.

*************

“Didn’t we try that before? The kid’s not going to trust anyone he doesn’t know.”

“It was a mistake to use an older guy. Matthew won’t see past Bishara. This time we’ll use someone his own age.”

“And how are you going to find someone willing to risk crossing Bishara, and how are we going to get him on the inside?”

“I’ve already found someone, and he’s about to try and get inside.”

********************

“So, you understand what you have to do?”

The sigh he received in reply told him that Hassan did.

“I’m to look pretty and act dumb. Nobody thinks a dumb twink will understand business talk.”

Aziz scowled, “I told you not to use that word. You are not that, even if you must act like one. Target only those that I told you about, there are others that will deal with the less important.”

Hassan nodded, “But, just so you know, if one of them gets too handsy.”

“Then I will deal with it, no violence.”

“Not even an offended slap?”

“Perhaps...come, the car is waiting.”

************

Hassan as he was rapidly getting used to being called again, decided to take a break from playing eye candy. He nodded to his minder, who watched him as he made his way to the bar. He stood, holding but not drinking a glass of overpriced champagne.

He scanned the party, watching the others ‘work’. His gaze eventually turned to Aziz, who was engaged in a conversation with some business type. He looked away again, then returned to Aziz. It seemed he’d finished his conversation and was scanning the room for him. He abandoned his drink and made his way over.

If he had known what would happen after that, he would have run as far as he could.

***********************

“I’m not lonely or bored.”  
“My staff tell me otherwise.”  
“But…”  
“My decision is final, Hassan.It can’t be easy, only to be allowed out with myself. You had so much more freedom before. A companion your own age has been chosen, to help alleviate the boredom.”

“I don’t…”

“As I said, my decision is final.”

He huffed his disapproval; he wasn’t a child that needed a playdate. But what Aziz said, went.

“He will be arriving tonight. You will be polite, he is quite likeable.”

“Can I at least know his name?”

“Of course, his name is Liam.”

*********************

“You actually managed to get inside?” Tom said.

“You doubted me. Bishara would only hire the best. He actually said I was the perfect companion.”

“You have to watch Matthew. He’s smart and can smell a plant a mile off. So, watch your step.”

“Not going to be easy, since I’m supposed to get him away from Bishara.”

“Just be careful, I don’t want to be fishing your body out of anywhere.”

“I’m not a rookie.”

“Still, be careful. I want Matthew out, but don’t risk your life to do it.”

******************

He tried not to fidget as he sat in the lounge.

“Stop fidgeting,” Aziz said.

“Sorry,” he replied and sat on his hands.

“I would have thought you would appreciate the company, since you can’t go out, and I cannot be here all day.”

“I do appreciate it, it’s just….”

Aziz put a hand on his knee, which was refusing the command to keep still.

“I know you are not used to any other company but myself. This is only temporary, until we leave.”

“When will that be?”

“A while, I can’t exactly walk through an airport with you. Smuggling a person is not as easy as smuggling contraband. When we leave he will be dismissed, with ample keep quiet money.”

He let out a relieved breath; he could deal with this Liam till then.

*****************

Liam arrived an hour later, instantly taking in possible exits. He also took notice of the show of hardware by the minders, that watched him carefully. He’d only met Bishara briefly but hadn’t met Matthew yet. He wasn’t going to take as gospel the things he had read in the files.

He was ushered in and instantly noticed him. He’d seen a photo of Matthew, but it really didn’t do him justice; no wonder Bishara brought him. Initially it had puzzled him as to why Matthew would go back, not once, but twice. Then his brief meeting with Bishara was somewhat of a clue, the man was charismatic. But he wasn’t going to make a move, until he saw the dynamic between the two.

“Liam, this is Hassan,” Bishara said.

Liam put his hand out for…. Hassan? Oh well, go with it.

“Nice to meet you, Hassan,” he said, but his hand was ignored.

“Hassan, manners.”

A reluctant Hassan stood, and a begrudging hand reached out and shook his. Calculating and intelligence bright sapphires bored into his.

“Pleasure to meet you, Liam. I’m sure we will get on well.”

“I shall let you two to get acquainted. Not too late, you have training in the morning,” Bishara said.

“Yes, Aziz,” Hassan replied.

Liam noted the contrast between the way Hassan stared at him, and the way he addressed Bishara…Bishara was the dominant one.

He waited until Bishara had left before speaking.

“Hassan, you don’t look Middle Eastern.”

“Because I’m not.”

“Your parents called you…. oh, that’s what Aziz calls you.”

That earnt him a glare, “That’s sir or Mister Bishara to you. And it’s none of your business what he calls me. You are being paid to keep me company, that is all. We will not be friends. Be up by six tomorrow, I hope you have gym clothes.”

With that Hassan left…wow, so much for him being an abused and under the thumb sex slave. This was going to be harder than he thought.

He retired to the rooms he’d been given and sent a text to Tom Kirk, then settled for the night, planning what he would do tomorrow.  
*************

Hassan woke with a gasp, a name escaping his lips that he hadn’t spoken since…. He knew that Aziz was already up and gone without looking, and he was glad for it. It would have been more than awkward trying to explain why another person’s name was gasped out.

Why had he spoken that name, when it hurt him still to utter it. He shook the thought away and got ready for gym. It was when he stepped out of the bedroom, that he saw why he’d spoken that name…it was Liam. He looked so much like he imagined Stevie would have, if he had lived and been clean.

“Good morning,” Liam said, from his relaxed position against the bannister.

He forced himself to smile.

“My trainer will be here in thirty minutes. I suggest you warm up,” he said, and then ignored him.

He was doing his own warm-up routine, when he saw that Liam was watching.

“What?”

“Just wondering, why you need to work out. You hardly need it.”

He found himself blushing…what the?

“And I like to stay that way.”

“I suppose you do need to be fit. Keeping Aziz happy must be very demanding.”

“Be careful,” he hissed in reply.

“What, I can’t have an opinion?”

Christ…he was going to be irritating.

“Yes, just not about me and Aziz.”

“Okay…so, how fit are you?”

He heard the challenge in Liam’s voice, and as the instructor entered the gym, he said.

“How fit are you?”

An hour later, he found he didn’t dislike Liam as much as he thought he did.

“So,” Liam asked, “What do you do all day?”

****************

Dominic wasn’t going to just leave it, as he’d been told by more than one person. He wasn’t going to leave Matthew in the hands of god knows who; even if it seemed to be all legal and above- board. He didn’t need to ask Tom Kirk for help, he had his own way. He sent out text’s and e-mails to all the volunteers that ran his charity, with a description and photo of Matthew. He asked if they would carefully enquire amongst the street-workers and homeless that used the food vans, if they had seen or heard anything.

He could only hope that Matthew wasn’t being forced back into a life that he knew his fragile mental and emotional state wouldn’t cope with. It was still impossible to believe that Matthew had been gone a month, a month since his arrest.

He also had trouble believing that Matthew had anything to do with those murders, let alone commit them. Then again, he had no idea of what had happened after the colossal mistake he’d made in Germany, and the return to their care.

He was also sure that he was being kept out of the loop, not by the Wolstenholme’s, but by Tom Kirk. So, he would make his own enquiries and watch carefully.

*****************

“You’re studying military history?” Liam said, picking up a folder.

“Matthew, he refused to call him Hassan…well, in his head anyway, snatched the folder away.

“Yes, did you think I sat around all day looking pretty?”

“No..well yes. Don’t get snotty, I thought you might be doing arty stuff.”

Hassan snorted, “I’m not a girl, although I do draw and paint. I used to ride as well, but not here. I like history, okay.”

“So, you never go out on your own?”

“What’s with all the questions?”

“No reason, just trying to get to know you.”

“Oh, right. I don’t go out because it’s not safe.”

“Aren’t you a little old for stranger danger?”

 

“It’s not…it’s just not safe.”

Liam wisely didn’t press but changed tact.

“But you’d like to get out?”

Hassan sighed as he opened the folder.

“Never going to happen.”

“Who says so?”

“Aziz, that’s why there’s so many minders. I’ve done it before, it didn’t end well.”

“But if you could, you would?”

And there it was, his way into really earning his trust…the wistful expression and those three softly spoken words.

“Yeah. I would.”


	35. Chapter 35

_“Oi, that’s my spot your standing on, bitch!”_

_He turned at the yelled words and saw a rake thin, angry looking figure, with ridiculously purple hair striding towards him…. yeah, like he was going to move. He drew himself up to his full height, then gave the approaching figure his brightest smile._

_“_ _You snooze, you lose,” he said, trying to sound relaxed and confident. But that was shattered as the figure got closer and stopped…fuck me, he was gorgeous._

_“Move,” the gorgeous vision spat._

_“Don’t think so, you’ll have to make me,” he replied, really hoping that there would some skin contact._

_The gorgeous vision, looked him up and down, sniffed, then produced a packet of smokes and offered him one. “Nah, not worth the hair pulling, Sides’, I’ve just had me hair done.”_

_He relaxed slightly, then said, “It’s very purple.”_

_“And you dress like a bloody vampire. Name’s Stevie.”_

_“Matty…so, how many tricks can you turn here?”_

*****************

He woke with start; it was the second time he’d dreamt of Stevie. He’d deliberately not thought about Stevie for a long time, it still hurt too much. But Liam looked so much like Stevie, it had shaken his Stevie free world. He didn’t know why he’d said he would like to go out without Aziz, maybe it was the way Liam phrased it.

A flash of guilt went through him; he shouldn’t even be thinking such things. Why did Liam make him question? Aziz would be gone for several days, and he was missing his steadying presence. He decided he would avoid Liam from now on. He let out a resigned sigh when he saw that Liam was already at the breakfast table…great, no avoiding him then.

“Morning, “Liam said…dear god, he looked even more like Stevie when he was sleep ruffled. He didn’t reply, he busied himself with slathering butter and marmalade on his toast.

“Are you going to ignore me, Hassan, or are you not a morning person?”

He looked up and glared at him, then stood, scrapping the chair on the floor, took his breakfast and left.

 

*****************

Liam had thought overnight about how he was going to get Matthew to trust him enough to actually go outside without Bishara. He would have to be subtle, but he knew he’d already sown what he hoped were fertile seeds. Now all he had to do was make sure they grew.

However, it was a very frosty Matthew that sat opposite him at breakfast. What the hell had happened overnight? So, when he asked a question, he wasn’t surprised to receive a glare in return. He really didn’t need this setback, Bishara was only going to be gone till Friday, and he wanted to have at least gotten Matthew out of the house, and for enough trust to have been built for him to willingly partake in the deception.

He sighed, then abandoning his own breakfast, he went in search of him. He hadn’t gone far, so he sat next to him on the wall that divided the patio from the garden.

“Can’t a person get some peace and quiet.”

“It’s a free country”, he replied. “Why are you giving me the cold shoulder? I thought we were getting on.”

“Yesterday was a mistake. You’re just hired help, we are never going to be friends.”

“So, you don’t want to go out?”

“No.”

“Why, does Aziz make all your decision for you?”

“No, he doesn’t!”

The reply was sharp and laced with anger, but Liam was certain it wasn’t aimed at him. He was certain it was the suggestion that Matthew had no free will. He decided to poke the sore spot.

“You sure?”

“I can go out of I want to."

“Then, why don’t you?

 

” Because.” “Because Aziz says so?”

“No, it’s not safe. He’s just keeping me safe.”

Liam had to think quickly, “Safe from what?”

“I….” Liam could see that Matthew was struggling with answering, so he took a very wild guess, having read the files. He didn’t know the details; those had been redacted, but he knew enough.

“You used to be on the streets.”

Matthew shifted, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“For a while, and you do what you gotta, y’know.”

 

Liam nodded. “Were you a street-boy?” He was surprised he didn’t get a ‘mind your own’ in reply to that question.

“Not a first, started out lifting, but it don’t pay and there were way too many coppers.”

“Why were you on the streets in the first place?”

“Ran away.”

 

“From your family?” Matthew shook his head, “Don’t got a family, they died when I was eight. Was in the system till they palmed me off to some family, just to meet their ‘quotas’. Once I was legal, I legged it. But you don’t want to hear my sob story.”

Liam was about to say he did, as he realized that he was on the threshold of gaining more of that trust, but Matthew’s phone ringing shattered the moment, and Matthew was away, chattering away in Arabic. He wasn’t expecting him to be back ten minutes later, with tears in his eyes and say.

“I want to go out.”

*********************

 

Hassan wasn’t sure why he was answering Liam’s question, perhaps it was his likeness to Stevie again; he could always talk to Stevie, when he wasn’t high. His phone ringing stopped the questions, and he brightened when he saw the caller ID.

“Aziz,” he said, hoping he could hear the joy in his voice at having received a call. He chattered happily about his days and how much he was looking forward to seeing him on Friday.

“About that, my little desert cat. I will be away for a few extra days.”

He wasn’t happy about that, “But you said you would be. You were going to take me to see that play I wanted to see.”

“Don’t whine, Hassan. You are not a child.”

"But...”

“Enough,” Aziz’s voice rose. “I will be home on Monday, the play was not that important.”

He blinked when the phone cut-off, and a wave of hurt went through him; Aziz had never broken a promise before. He felt the burn of tears and anger heat his face, so he made his way back to Liam and said.

“I want to go out.”


	36. Chapter 36

He didn’t sleep that night, as the details of how Liam was going to get them out without the minders knowing ran through his mind. Excitement and fear flooded his body with adrenaline, that he was doing something that no matter how much he denied it, he wanted to do. But he was afraid that he would be seen, and without the protection that Aziz provided, he would be snatched back and into either imprisonment or to be committed; he wanted neither.

He had thought the Wolstenholme’s had been his salvation, and for a while they were. Then he had found him again, and it all crumbled. He’d managed to survive and was just about on an even keel again, when Dominic entered his life, and fool that he was, he allowed his carefully constructed shield to drop; and that had been a mistake.

He’d been hurt, physically, mentally, and emotionally because of it. He thought he would be in a dark place forever, but Aziz had changed that…or so he thought. He sighed and tried to sleep, not even thinking that Aziz had only twisted that dark place and twisted his view on life and love.

A soft tapping at his door told him it was time. Any fatigue was pushed away by another surge of adrenaline. He swore quietly as he pushed his feet into his Converses’ and fumbled with the laces. He grabbed a coat, then opened the door to a waiting Liam.

“Come on, we’ve got ten minutes.”

He followed Liam, who lead him, not to the front door, with its cameras, but to a side entrance, one that was only use by the live-in staff. His heart started to race, as he stepped out of the house. He pushed his panic away, as the rebuke he’d received from Aziz resurfaced; the anger made him follow Liam out into the cold of the morning.

Once they were out of sight of the house, Liam asked.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

*********************

Liam had been surprised when Matthew said he wanted to go to Hyde Park…then again, he was perhaps a little claustrophobic. He watched Matthew as he watched people go by, and he appeared to be happy. For a moment he wished they were here as friends, because he was certain he would have gotten on with Matthew. But he wasn’t, he was an undercover officer, whose job it was to befriend and then retrieve a victim of human and sex trafficking.

Okay, it was some time ago and Matthew had been retrieved once before, but he needed retrieving againn, and it wasn’t his place to ask the how or the why. It wasn’t until he’d seen Matthew in the flesh, that it had clicked. He’d been the star-witness in the trial and conviction of Donnie James. Again, he didn’t know the details, as the reporting restrictions had been severe, after the dramatic collapse of the said star-witness whilst on the stand.

That had thrown him at first, but he was a professional, and he let it go. He started when Matthew shivered.

“You cold? There’s a place I know does a hot chocolate and muffins to kill for. You up for that?”

Matthew looked at and Liam could see that he was thinking…then he nodded.

*************************

The café was busy and the queue at the counter was heaving, so he wasn’t paying full attention to Matthew, and that was a mistake. He was two people away from the front, so he turned to make sure he’d got what Matthew wanted right and froze…. Matthew wasn’t there.

He left the queue and frantically scanned the café…no sign. He pushed his way outside, but it was bereft of Matthew. This wasn’t part of the plan, and for a moment his brain refused to work. Then he remembered he had a phone and he had Matthew’s number.

“Pick up…pick up,” he muttered, but there was no joy. He had to find him and get him back, or he was certain he would end up becoming part of the city’s crime statistic. He was starting to panic, when he saw him, wandering toward him like he didn’t have a care, then looking perplexed when he berated him.

“Where the hell were you?”

Mathew held up a bag, “Art shop. Got some new colours.”

“You could have waited.”

“Why?”

“What if something had happened. Aziz would hang me by my balls before cutting them off.”

Matthew snorted, “Aziz will never know. The minders will be too worried about their own bollocks, since we managed to sneak out. I can just let it slip that I sneaked out…not with you though, but on my own.”

“Right, but we better get back, before one of them actually grows as pair and calls Aziz. But, Hassan, you can’t ever let on that we did this.”

This was the acid test; would Matthew say yes?

“Okay, but we are doing this again, and for fuck’s sake, chill, I can lie like a pro.”

********************

He’d enjoyed his time outside, so his heart sank as they walked back into the house. He glared at the minders, daring them to say anything; they didn’t, as he know they would. He still felt a flash of guilt, as he hadn’t blatantly disobeyed Aziz like this for a long time; not since he’d been first ‘acquired’ and wasn’t going to obey anyone.

The guilt forced him to flee to the rooms they shared. As he lay on the bed, his thoughts went to his time outside…. yes, he’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed the freedom, and yes, he’d said he wanted to do it again, but that was just a fantasy. Aziz would be back and eventually they would leave the country. It had been a wonderful one-off thing, but that was all it was

He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would bring him some clarity to the confusion he was feeling. He woke when he felt fingers softly brush his cheek. He smiled, he knew that touch.

“Aziz,” he said sleepily.

“Hello, my sleepy little desert cat.”

“You said you wouldn’t be back until Monday.”

“I wasn’t, but I was disturbed by our little disagreement over the phone. I could not just apologize over the phone.”

He frowned at that, “Apologize?”

“Yes, I should not have rebuked you.”

“Aziz. I...”

He was silenced by Aziz kissing him, and any anger he’d felt melted away.

“I have good news,” Aziz said, as he stroked his now naked back. We are moving up the schedule. We…well you will be smuggled out of this country within the week.”

He smiled at that, but for some reason, a small part of him was not happy.

“But until then, you can decide where we are going to eat, after the play has finished.”

************************

Liam had sent Tom Kirk a text, saying that the first part of the plan had succeeded, and he was going to push it onto the next stage. But that plan went south, when Aziz walked through the front door, and his plans changed when he eavesdropped on a conversation between two minders.

The time for subtlety was over.


	37. Chapter 37

“It’s a wooden crate.”

“Yes, and is that a problem?”

“Yeah, it’s a wooden crate.”

“Tell me, Hassan. Would you rather be stuck in a metal container on a cargo ship?”

“No.”

“I thought so. The crate will not be uncomfortable, and the shipping company is owned by myself, and you only have to be inside it whilst going through customs and security.”

“Where will I be going?”

 

“I have a large property in South America. You will want for nothing until I join you.”

“How long?”

“A week or two. Hassan, when you arrive there, you cannot call anyone in this country, not even you little thieves. There are those that will not give up their quest to take you from me.”

“I wouldn’t let them.”

“They might tempt you away with their words.”

“They will not. I know now that it is you that I belong with.”

“You are one of a kind, Hassan. I will make certain to remind you of that when we are together again. I will not lose you again.”

Hassan frowned at how serious Aziz sounded, so he distracted him by linking arms and allowing him to walk him back to the car. But his thoughts turned to Liam, as they drove out of the yard. Despite everything, despite how he’d stirred up unwanted memories and feelings, he would miss him. He wished Liam could come with him, then they could go out whenever they wanted. Perhaps he would ask Aziz for another companion, once they were settled.

He would talk to Liam about it; after all, he was going to be saying goodbye soon, and he probably knew what was going on.

**********************

Liam had watched the car drive away, and he wasn’t happy. Bishara was taking Matthew somewhere, and he was concerned. He was certain that it was to with the plans to smuggle him out of the country. He’d texted Tom Kirk, who’d replied that he wanted to know where and when. This was rapidly turning into a snatch and grab, the one thing they didn’t want. He knew that Bishara wouldn’t let his prize go without violence being involved.

How was he going to get that information? It wasn’t like he could go and rifle through Bishara’s office; it wouldn’t be that easy.

A sudden influx of noise told him that Bishara and Matthew had returned. He felt a chill go through him when he heard Matthew’s laugh, followed by the deeper tones of Bishara…that sounded way too happy for his liking.

If Matthew had fallen back to being completely loyal to Bishara, then he’d lost the chance to get him away before the choice was taken from him, before the violence that would only end in someone getting hurt.

The door bursting open scattered his train of thought, as Matthew appeared and threw himself on the bed. Liam caught the glint of something metallic around Matthew’s neck; a gift from Bishara, no doubt.

Matthew must have noticed him staring and removed it, dangling it in front of him.

“Do you like it? Aziz said the platinum and the stones bring out my complexion.”

Liam looked at the piece of expensive jewelry, then at Matthew, who looked happier that he should be.

He was surprised when Matthew produced a box.

“It’s for you, a leaving present, since I’m…well, you know, leaving.”

“Is that where you were, finalizing the plans.”

“Yeah, you’re not going to believe what they’re using.”

“Go on, they never told me how.”

“A wooden crate, like something out of Madagascar, ‘cept I’m not going by boat.”

Liam was thinking quickly; he needed to know where and when.

“So, you don’t mind?”

“Going by plane…nah. Aziz says I only have to stay in it for a while. I’ll be fine.”

“What about customs, won’t they check the crate?”

“|Money buys blindness, Liam, and Shadwell Shipping is owned by Aziz. That and who would think of Luton airport as a people smuggling hot spot.”

Liam cheered internally; he nearly had it all, just the time now.

“So, have they decided when you’re going? They never told me, and I’s like to say see ya.”

Matthew sighed, “Friday morning we drive up, then I fly that night.”

He was surprised when Matthew placed a hand on his arm.

“I know I’ve been an arse to you, and I’m sorry for that. You gave me those few hours of freedom, and I’ll never forget that. I think, if we’d met in another life, we could have been the best of friends…I’ll miss you.”

The last three words were said softly and there was such a sad look in Matthew’s eyes…then he was gone.

Liam blinked…did that just happen? He looked at the box and opened it, inside was another box, with a piece of folded paper on top of it.

'Liam, before I met you, I’d already decided I was going to hate you, but in the end I couldn’t. I’ll say goodbye now, since you have to leave in the morning, and I won’t see you again. I want you to have this. Goodbye and good luck’

He dropped the note; this wasn’t supposed to happen. He never opened the other box, he couldn’t afford to become emotionally involved. So, he was leaving in the morning, good, it would give them more time to plan.

Morning came quickly, and he left the house, with the large amount of cash he’d been given, but without the box. He had no doubt that Matthew would find it, and he knew that Matthew would hate him now.

It was just a job, he told himself. He was still saying that when he walked into Tom Kirk’s office.

**************************

He eyed the wooden crate again, yes, it had a padded bench and water and food, but it was still a wooded crate.

“It won’t be for long, Hassan,” Aziz said.

He looked away from the crate.

“I know…it’s just being away from you again. I’ll worry about you, if you’re all right. I’ll hate not knowing what’s happening.”

Aziz pulled him closer.

“You shouldn’t worry, my little desert cat. All will be fine.”

Those words had only just left his lips, when the air was suddenly full of lights and shouting.


	38. Chapter 38

Dominic sighed and closed his laptop. He’d thrown himself into his work and was now trying to help a badly traumatized teenager. He wondered if Matthew had ever been afforded this kind of intervention as a child. He doubted it, he was probably one of those that got lost in the system, and would have been spat out at seventeen, if it hadn’t been for the Wolstenholme’s.

A glance at the clock told him he’d worked far too long and way too late. He was about to climb the stairs when there was a pounding at his door, and Chris’s voice.

“Dom…Dominic!”

Everything after that was a blur. Tom had what? Did someone say guns? Surely, he’d misheard when some said Aziz Bishara.

It all came back into focus as he walked into the main reception of Addenbrookes Hospital. He saw two police officers, and a very angry Mister Wolstenholme berating Tom Kirk.

“How could you! I swear, if Matthew is permanently damaged I will make sure you never see the outside again!”

He then noticed Chris and Dominic.

“Thank god. Matthew’s in surgery and my wife is waiting upstairs.”

Dominic grabbed Tom’s arm as he was being escorted away.

“Is it true, about Bishara? I thought he was dead.”

“He is now,” Tom replied.

He didn’t have time to process that, as he was hurrying after the others. Matthew was injured and in surgery. It raised memories of an alley and all the blood.

As he approached the waiting room, he saw someone standing outside; they had that haunted look that Domoic recognized. He couldn’t see any other people…was he part of whatever Tom had done; he had to know.

The person looked away from the doors to the operating theatres when he approached.

“Are you okay?”

The man…no, he didn’t look any older than Matthew shook his head.

“I didn’t think this would…why didn’t he keep running.”

So, he was part of it.

“You’re one of Tom’s then?”

“Yes...no...sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“He asked me, and I said yes. I was supposed to get him away from Bishara, so he could be de-programmed.”

De-programmed, is that what they thought...well, what Kirk thought?

The young man moved away then and sank to the floor, his head in his hands.

He wanted to ask more, as it seemed this young man had been an important part of the debacle that this had turned out to be. But his attention was taken by the conversation in the waiting room, and when he looked, the young man had gone.

What had happened and how had Matthew been injured?

***********************

He was blinded by the light and startled by the voices. He turned to Aziz for re-assurance and flinched when he saw anger…and was that fear clouding Aziz’s features.

“Everyone on your knees!”

He frowned, the scowled; he recognized that voice…Tom Kirk, and it seemed that Aziz did too.

Instead of responding to the order, Aziz looked him in the eyes and said quietly in Arabic.

“I am going to give an order, and you are going to run, Hassan. You will not look back, and you will find a way back to London. I know you can do that.”

He shook his head, “No, I won’t leave you.”

“It is you they want, and I will not let then have you, my beautiful Hassan.”

He didn’t like the way Aziz said that….it seemed to have a feeling of finality.

“No.”

“You will go,” Aziz snarled and shoved him and yelled his order.

Then he was running, the sound of gunfire like firebrands in his ears. He’d reached the edge of the compound when he heard.

“Get after him! On your knees, Bishara!”

He knew he should keep running, but instead he turned and started back…he wasn’t going to leave Aziz.

He weaved his way through crates and containers, not wanting to be caught by those searching for him. He absent- mindedly touched the weapon inside his jacket, the weapon he’d been reluctant to carry, not even think about using. But he did know how to use it, Aziz had made sure of that. As he got closer he could hear the voice more clearly, still demanding that Aziz get to his knees; Aziz would never bend to anyone.

He had just reached a point where he could see without being seen, when it happened…one shot, then another. His heart clenched, he knew what that meant.

“No!” he cried and drawing the gun, he stepped into the light. All he saw was Aziz, a hole in his forehead, his blood and brains pooling around his head.

“No!” he screamed and brought the gun up.

Through the haze of grief and fury he saw a silhouette of someone, and his grip on the gun tightened.

“Matthew, put the gun down.”

It was him.

“Were you the one, did you pull the trigger?”

“He gave me no choice.”

He felt his mouth curl into a sneer.

“Murderer,” he snarled.

Tom Kirk moved closer, and in response he clicked the safety off.

“Matthew, please put the gun down.”

He let out a choked laugh, raised the gun to aim and began to squeeze the trigger…then his world descended into white hot fire.

***********************

Tom Kirk had been slight wrong-footed when Liam had texted that Bishara was intending to smuggle Matthew out of the country, and to find out it would be within the week. Now, he was watching as a small cavalcade of cars pulled into the compound of the shipping company.

He watched as Matthew emerged from one of the cars, in the company of Bishara. They looked far too comfortable together for his liking. Well that was going to change, once he was with the de-programmer he’d hired. But even then, he knew that Matthew may never have the same freedom again. He would either be chained by drugs or incarcerated in some prison.

For a moment he considered calling the operation off, not sure if he could condemn Matthew to that fate. But he’d seen how distraught the Wolstenholme’s and Dominic had been. At least this way, there was the chance that someday he might be well enough, or served his time and be free, and back in the arms of people who loved him, no matter what.

So, he carried on, and it wasn’t until it spun out of control, that he wished he had called it off.

He had no choice in killing Bishara; Bishara hadn’t given him a choice, and a bullet to the brain was the quickest kill. Then, Matthew, who should have kept running had appeared, angry, grief -stricken and holding a gun.

“Matthew, put the gun down,” he said, but he saw Matthew tighten his grip on the gun.

“Were you the one, did you pull the trigger?”

He could lie, but Matthew would have seen through that.

“He gave me no choice.”

He deserved the sneer and the snarled “Murderer.”

He moved closer and he heard the safety click off.

“Matthew, please put the gun down.”

Matthew let out a choked laugh and the gun was raised and the tension in Matthew’s hand told him the trigger was being squeezed.

A shot rang out and Matthew collapsed like a broken marionette. He reacted instantly and thumped to his knees beside him, his hands putting pressure on the gaping hole, blood seeping through his fingers.

“Fuck…fuck. Somebody call a fucking ambulance!”

***************************

Dominic glanced over at the small group outside of the private room that Matthew was in. His fate had been decided, and there was nothing that could be done to avoid it.

Matthew was to be transferred to a secure unit, now he was well enough. He was to be assessed as to whether he was mentally fit enough to stand trial.

The Wolstenholme’s were now in the room, telling Matthew what was about to happen, and the raised voices told him that it wasn’t going well.

After what seemed an eternity the door opened and the Wolstenholme’s emerged. Mrs. Wolstenholme was crying, and Mister Wolstenholme and Chris looked upset.

“You can take him now,” Mister Wolstenholme said.

A few minutes later, Matthew was wheeled out in a chair, He didn’t look at his family, but as he passed Dominic, the look he gave him said it all…betrayal.

 

TBC continued in “Redemption Song”


End file.
